The Queen has died. 

Our Queen of England. Queen of Britain. Queen of our hearts. 

It is surreal. So surreal in fact that whilst watching the news with the announcement of our King’s name, I called out to Mr W that it would now be ‘God save our Queen’. Nope, a slip of the tongue, a tongue so used to formulating the sentence with the word Queen that it naturally slipped out. 

Of course, now it will be God Save our King. My, how strange that sounds. 

It all started with a text today, had I heard about the Queen? With my phone in hand I quickly checked the news. The Queen had been taken ill. Doctors were concerned. Family were on their way to her bedside. The news was switched on as the I, along with the rest of the world, awaited further announcements. I text Mr W at work. Just passing on the information. 

The announcement said that she was at Balmoral. I found myself thinking ahead. In just a few days, we should be parking at the Balmoral car park to visit Prince Albert’s pyramid. Seeing the explosion taking place in the media in all its forms I started to think attending the area would be a poor choice. If the Queen was okay, the area would still be overrun with news trucks and our hope to find parking would be less than nil. If the worst should happen…

It wasn’t such a worry to have to rearrange a detail of the trip. We both know it’s likely we’ll be heading back to Scotland in the next few years. With so much left off this trip and the prices of foreign travel going haywire, it only makes sense to make domestic travel our priority. 

In truth I felt that should something dramatic happen, we were less important than others who felt the need to pay their respects. Due to my lack of knowledge when it came to the royals and my very recent fondness, it felt wrong for us to make the trip and take someone else’s space. 

As the media interviewed various people around the UK and royal correspondents spoke of what was happening at the royal residences it felt like time was ticking by all the slower. Mr W came home and I limped to the kitchen to hug him. I’ve been out of action this week due to a recurring back problem, the reason for my absence in my writing, and he had brought home dinner and flowers. I cut the flower stems and placed them in a vase. Sunflowers. Something happy. 

Walking from the kitchen to the living room, I glanced at the TV. A flagpole was shown. The flag was at half mast. My brain connected the dots as I looked down at my phone and the royal announcement made its way onto social media. Our Queen had died. 

The announcement:

‘The Queen died peacefully at Balmoral this afternoon.

The King and The Queen Consort will remain at Balmoral this evening and will return to London tomorrow.’

Now we know what has happened it feels even more prudent to do what is right. I think it will be the case that we are away for Her Majesty’s funeral and as a mark of respect I want to arrange our time to sit with others and say our goodbyes. Being so far away from home at a time of national, and dare I say global, grief will be very strange indeed. 

My friend in America messaged and asked how we were. It is so peculiar to think about it all. Nothing in our lives has changed. Nothing to do with our daily actions or way of life. And yet, the constant we’ve all, mostly, known is gone. 

It all seems very formal now. There is a 10 day plan. Where she will be placed. Who will be able to see her. Every minute thing is planned. And yet all I can think about is when her family will be with her. When they will grieve. It is all so very public. When someone in the public eye dies, it is often asked from the family to be given the chance to grieve without intrusion. This is just the opposite. As if she belonged to all of us. In a way she did. She was the emblem of this country. But what of her family? How very strange it is as an outsider looking in. Is it just business now? A ship-shape list of what’s next and what to-do’s. 

I pray that everyone remembers her Jubilee and how we came together to celebrate her. And only her. How proud she made us. How the smile clung to her lips as she watched us clap for her and tilting her head to the sky watched as the planes flew for her. I hope that lasting image remains in everyone’s hearts. Surrounded by her family and us all. She made this country.

The outpouring of grief I’ve seen is heartbreaking. A continuous stream of tears and love, devastation and disbelief. She has been the grandmother of a nation. A jewel in our crown. The steady beating heart of a wavering, scared country. The voice of reason and decency.  

There will never be another like her. The adoration for her is too strong for that to happen. 

She gave her life to us. 

Our constant. 

Our Queen.