How can I locate the words? Our sadness is made up of a hundred diverse, difficult-to-understand feelings.
A nation’s heart bled when God Save the Queen played on the radio and television and we learned that our beloved queen had passed away.
A spectacular flash of colour had just flashed in the grey afternoon sky as a double rainbow appeared above Buckingham Palace only a few seconds ago.
Perhaps Her Majesty’s last word of encouragement to the people she had loved and served for so many years with such boundless pleasure and compassion.
Who knows, maybe Prince Philip was there with them as too, standing at her side once again. We had been aware that something was off all day.
By mid-morning, rumours that she was very ill were going about.
A palace declaration soon after that. The health of Her Majesty was a worry for her physicians.
This amounted to smashing the safety glass in the formal language of royal pronouncements.
Outside, the sky darkened to a foreboding shade of grey, and large, fat raindrops that resembled tears started to fall. I can’t stand it, a buddy texted. I’m just not prepared.
It became worse. It was revealed that Camilla, Prince William, and the rest of her children were travelling to Balmoral with Prince Charles.
Liz Truss received a troubling memo from the Duchy of Lancaster’s new Chancellor Nadhim Zahawi in the House of Commons.
The Duke of Sussex was also travelling to Scotland, which was the worst news of all. An indicator of the genuine gravity of the problem considering the circumstances and the recent history of the family.
A buddy from Aberdeen finally messaged me at approximately 5 o’clock to inform me that a piper had been requested to play at Balmoral. That only has one possible meaning. It seemed inconceivable. Impossible. Simply incorrect That most sage and unwavering of lady, who was our light in the darkest of nights, is no longer with us. Everything seems to be dark.
Without Her Majesty, Queen Elizabeth II, how could we even begin to imagine life? Through war, suffering, political unrest, and a worldwide epidemic, she has always been there for us, providing consolation and serving as our moral and (for many) religious compass.
The one person whose face, smile, and comforting presence made you feel at home.
Tradition is the truest meaning of the words: stability, continuity, and tradition. The first prime minister of this lady was born in 1874. Even the generation before me did not know life without her.
Her life narrative, the changes she saw, and how she guided the monarchy through seven amazing decades might fill a whole library, and they undoubtedly will. She has shown loyalty and tenacity, two qualities any queen ought to possess.
But her distinct and eternal humanity was what made her so very special—and what makes her passing such a sorrow.
She always showed great emotional intelligence, even as a young lady. She knew what it meant to be Queen and to use that constitutional authority, but she never let that power corrupt her or cause her irrepressible spirit to break.
In fact, if anything, she grew more approachable, personable, and linked to her people the longer she held the crown.
With only a smile, she could calm the whole country, and the simplest of gestures would move our hearts.
She was lovely, compassionate, and hilarious. She loved her horses and spoilt her pets. Despite the limitations of her position, she had pleasure in her life. She also sometimes gave us a sight of the lady sitting behind the throne.
She had a wicked flair for imitation, performed a wonderful James Bond spoof for the London Olympics, had a marmalade sandwich with Paddington Bear, laughed when things went wrong on solemn public events, and more. She undershared, unlike so many royals these days, but we couldn’t help but enjoy what little we did see.
My favourite anecdote about her is meeting some American tourists close to Balmoral. They questioned if she had ever met the Queen after failing to recognise the little person standing in front of them. She gestured at the security guard standing next to her and said, “No, but he has.”
She always seemed to have it all together while carrying even the most difficult loads with the lightest of touches.
It got to the point where I had a fleeting impression that she would live forever or that she might somehow transcend the rules of the universe. Some individuals by by existing contribute to the betterment of the planet. She belonged to them.
Actually, I had been nervous ever since I had seen that picture of her earlier in the week, introducing her to her fifteenth prime minister. Of fact, she was elegant, but she also appeared very little and helpless.
She was clearly doing her best to maintain her normal cheerful demeanour while being well aware of the significance of the situation for the lady in front of her, who was as kind as ever.
However, something didn’t seem quite right. Only once have I ever had the pleasure of actually meeting the Queen, and that was in 2019 at a state dinner for Donald Trump, who was the president of the United States at the time.
Her presence illuminated the space because of her sparkling white and diamond attire. She exuded vitality like the sun, surpassing even the president’s stellar ego.
She sliced through the adoring crowd as I stared in astonishment, stopping just long enough to gently reprimand one of her equerries for leaving a door open and letting a draught in. She was undoubtedly old, yet she seemed to be in good health. Full of energy, as well as plenty of mischief.
In only three years, a lot has changed. Naturally, the death of Prince Philip, who was to her what she has always been to us: her rock, her constant, and her compass in difficult times, was the main cause.
When her father George VI passed away in February 1952, he was the one to inform her she was now Queen when she was on tour in Kenya. He had a unique understanding of her sacrifice. How must it have felt to lead the country through the darkest of Covid winters and to manage Prince Andrew’s behavior’s vagaries without the duke’s sage advice. Not to mention the persistent threats from Prince Harry and his wife, who is her grandchild.
How she must have fretted for the institution’s future, alone and in the early hours, that she had devoted her whole life—her heart and soul—to and that she had worked so arduously to preserve and nurture.
And it makes sense—for many, Her Majesty was the one member of the Royal Family who was beyond reproach, unaffected by daily assaults on the monarchy, and who had won the respect of even its most vociferous detractors. In many respects, she served as their superpower.
Who knows what will happen to them without her?
The Queen has seen many of Britain’s worst moments, and for the rest of us, well. However, recent years have been particularly tumultuous and puzzling, set against a gloomy social and economic backdrop.
She has served as our lone true north and the lone constant in a world that is always changing. The monarchy, which is as antiquated as it is and is presided over by a lady who has resisted time and tide for seven wonderful decades, gives off the strange impression that we have never needed it more.
She must have recognised this since she had excellent perception. Which is maybe the reason she persevered despite her anguish and her deteriorating health.
The Platinum Jubilee festivities this year were both for her benefit and for ours, recognising the incredible connection between this one, little lady and a country with almost 70 million people (and billions more if you count the Commonwealth).
And even though it will be difficult for us to navigate the future without her as our mentor, and though we may wish she had remained a little bit longer, it is our responsibility to honour her and let go with love.
She has taken us as far as she is capable of. Now is the time for her to get some rest.