Tag: Queen has died

Shiny new toy

The last four days have been a steady stream of information and sadness in the passing of our Queen. Elizabeth II was a constant in our lives who never wavered and our loss is only just beginning. There will be the very reality of her passing to come to terms with in various forms. The changing of the literal, the money, postage stamps and passports example. And then there will be the more tangible times which will hurt our hearts. The Christmas speeches and the very unusual ‘God Save the King’ (I actually typed the ‘Q’ before remembering this has now changed) phrase we now adopt. 

Friday and the days since have seen people crowd into London to line the streets for a glimpse of the new King and his Queen consort. On Friday it felt beautiful to behold him arrive at the palace, his new home, and yet also so very sad to see him attend to the crowd. Smiling and shaking his way along the line of waiting mourners it felt strange to see the happy faces just 24 hours after the Queen’s passing. 

Where was the grief? 

I understand the unusual circumstances, who can say that they have shaken a King’s hand? And to be one of the first? Who wouldn’t want to? Perhaps this will be the only chance for him to hit us with his best shot. This may be the prime time to prove his devotion and loyalty to this country and the commonwealth. His connection with his people will be closer now than ever, when would a better time arise to plant the seed of trust than now? Gain respect in the very beginning when emotions are high. It is a very shrewd move. It is also telling of how quick we are to judge him, the people there, and the ones who watched, based on this one appearance. Why was he smiling? Was it a consoling face? Or a new King stepping into his role? Dare I say, happy to be adored?

Do not get me wrong, I have no anger towards the man, no problems with him whatsoever. I don’t know him, none of us truly will, I judge him purely on what emotions I saw on display at the time. And as we all know too well, a smile can hide a world of hurt. I am sad to think about how much pain he could have been hiding away. I wish he and the rest of the family could have had their time like any of the rest of us have when we lose a loved one. 

It personally felt tacky on the crowds part to smile and cheer whilst her Majesty was 500 miles away and barely cold. I commend Charles III for reaching out to the crowd but it didn’t feel as though someone so treasured had just died, it felt too celebratory. It was sad enough to think he had barely any time to grieve himself before his duties began. And yet there he was kissing strangers and being the happy Charlie for the clapping crowd. 

The crowd that flocked to Buckingham Palace over Thursday afternoon waiting word on her Majesty was silent. They stood with bated breath while updating their news apps and watching the palace. When the flag fell to half mast, quiet tears rolled down anguished cheeks and voices caught in throats. The crowd came to be where her spirit still remained. To the largest icon of her name. Her home. They seemed lost. Wandering and waiting. It felt very organic. 

Friday felt more or less an extension of the same flock. Mourners and lost souls looking for others who felt equally saddened and grief bound. Upon the King’s arrival I fear the excitement quite literally pushed the sorrow aside. Yesterday, after the world watched the crowds meeting a King on Friday, even more people flocked to Central London. Maybe they too could grasp a monarch’s hand! It is a shame to think, and very morbid, that this may have been the reason people made the journey. That the lost souls of Thursday have been replaced by the fame seekers of Saturday. That the tear stained faces have been replaced by smiles and shouts of ‘I shook the King’s hand!’. Kissing the King and plastering your story over the news channels is really quite unsavoury.

I know all of the above is very cynical and it comes from a place of grief. A place where I feel strongly about needing to show respect when someone has passed. Yes, we have a new monarch, in name and position Charles is a replacement, but not in spirit or adoration. That will come in time I am sure but it will be for what he stands for and does in the next couple of decades that dictates how much he is worth to his country. This is a fresh slate in our history. He is not his mother. And therefore our grief should not be replaced by the thrill of a shiny new toy. There is a lot of respect to be given at a time like this. Respect for her. Respect for him and his family. Respect we hold for ourselves to understand, grieve and act appropriately. 

I am sure in the days to come we will all find our path through the sadness and accept the new era ahead. The funeral will see the country come together and grieve like never before. A collective sigh for one very special lady. May flights of angels sing thee to thy rest.

Our constant. Our Queen.

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.