HM Queen Elizabeth II, 21st April 1926 - 8th September 2022
The death of HM Queen Elizabeth II is an event we've known was coming for some time. She was 96, in frail health and increasingly stepping back from public life. Her Platinum Jubilee celebrations this summer felt at the time like a goodbye party. She lived a long and amazing life, and died in her favourite place, surrounded by her family. I suppose that's all any of us could wish for, but it doesn't make it any less sad. It also marks the end of an era. It's strange to be working on Operation London Bridge, stranger still to refer to the reign of Elizabeth II in the past tense and to King Charles III.
"Her Maj" has been such a constant presence in British life, from royal visits to national occasions to speaking to us every Christmas Day, not to mention her likeness on our coins, notes and stamps. She gave a literal lifetime of service to our country and the Commonwealth (which, in many ways, stands as her greatest achievement), working right up until the very end, when she saw in her fifteenth UK Prime Minister. She was our strongest diplomat, a Head of State with a wealth of knowledge and experience, removed from the divisiveness of electoral politics. She was patron of more than 600 charities and organisations, and famous for taking an interest in everyone she met. She always seemed to be there, with her devotion to duty, her warm words of wisdom, and her infectious smile and good humour. She was a role model and an inspiration to millions. People are affectionately referring to her as "the nation's granny", and it does feel like that in a way. Even though the vast majority of us never knew her personally, it kind of feels as if we did.
As I mentioned when Prince Philip passed away last year, I was lucky enough to see him and the Queen in person, when they came to Leeds on her Diamond Jubilee tour. I took the photos below on that day. It was a lovely occasion, with a great sense of community from everyone there.
Of course, not everyone agrees. I have a theory that your views on the monarchy depends on whether you see us belonging to it, or it belonging to us. A minority think of the royals as over-privileged, swanning around at taxpayers' expense, and all the pomp and ceremony as self-indulgent and divorced from reality. Others (like me, obviously) think of the words used to describe the Queen (and being pledged by our new King) - duty, service, humility - and see the pomp and ceremony as an integral part of our culture and national life, there for all of us to appreciate or participate in. Even if each group can understand, intellectually, where the other is coming from, I fear that's a gulf in emotional perspective that's too large to bridge. Which is a real shame, as I get the sense the Queen felt duty-bound to each and every one of us.
Some feel the blanket coverage of current events is excessive. I do get that. I'd be lying if I said I'd never felt the same way about certain sporting tournaments or other events. But personally, while I've hardly been watching it all, I've drawn comfort from being able to switch the telly on at any time and see what is happening. I expected to feel sad at the Queen's death (and I was), but I was surprised at how reassuring I found it seeing Charles ascend to the throne. But I suppose that sense of continuity and resilience in the face of national adversity is one of the things the monarchy is all about. It's clearly impossible for him to fill the shoes left by a sovereign who is already starting to be called "Elizabeth the Great", but his first address to the nation as King was perfectly judged, even as he was mourning the loss of his mother. I wish him well.
For the public, we are all dealing with this in our own way. I am not travelling to London to join The Queue to see her lying in state, but I am full of admiration for those who are willing to wait in line for five miles and 24 hours to do so. Could there be any more magnificent, quintessentially British tribute? For me, I was glad to join (in person) the brief service, minute's silence and national anthem at the start of the Great North Run last weekend, to sign a book of condolence at the town hall, and to watch some of the key events on television. These have all helped me to mentally process a peculiar mix of grief for a stranger's death, a sense of living through a moment of national history, and a collective experience in which there are so many differing views and individual stories.
I think all that remains for me to say is thank you, Ma'am. Rest in peace, now your duty is done. We were so very lucky to have had you as our Queen. x
"Her Maj" has been such a constant presence in British life, from royal visits to national occasions to speaking to us every Christmas Day, not to mention her likeness on our coins, notes and stamps. She gave a literal lifetime of service to our country and the Commonwealth (which, in many ways, stands as her greatest achievement), working right up until the very end, when she saw in her fifteenth UK Prime Minister. She was our strongest diplomat, a Head of State with a wealth of knowledge and experience, removed from the divisiveness of electoral politics. She was patron of more than 600 charities and organisations, and famous for taking an interest in everyone she met. She always seemed to be there, with her devotion to duty, her warm words of wisdom, and her infectious smile and good humour. She was a role model and an inspiration to millions. People are affectionately referring to her as "the nation's granny", and it does feel like that in a way. Even though the vast majority of us never knew her personally, it kind of feels as if we did.
As I mentioned when Prince Philip passed away last year, I was lucky enough to see him and the Queen in person, when they came to Leeds on her Diamond Jubilee tour. I took the photos below on that day. It was a lovely occasion, with a great sense of community from everyone there.
Of course, not everyone agrees. I have a theory that your views on the monarchy depends on whether you see us belonging to it, or it belonging to us. A minority think of the royals as over-privileged, swanning around at taxpayers' expense, and all the pomp and ceremony as self-indulgent and divorced from reality. Others (like me, obviously) think of the words used to describe the Queen (and being pledged by our new King) - duty, service, humility - and see the pomp and ceremony as an integral part of our culture and national life, there for all of us to appreciate or participate in. Even if each group can understand, intellectually, where the other is coming from, I fear that's a gulf in emotional perspective that's too large to bridge. Which is a real shame, as I get the sense the Queen felt duty-bound to each and every one of us.
Some feel the blanket coverage of current events is excessive. I do get that. I'd be lying if I said I'd never felt the same way about certain sporting tournaments or other events. But personally, while I've hardly been watching it all, I've drawn comfort from being able to switch the telly on at any time and see what is happening. I expected to feel sad at the Queen's death (and I was), but I was surprised at how reassuring I found it seeing Charles ascend to the throne. But I suppose that sense of continuity and resilience in the face of national adversity is one of the things the monarchy is all about. It's clearly impossible for him to fill the shoes left by a sovereign who is already starting to be called "Elizabeth the Great", but his first address to the nation as King was perfectly judged, even as he was mourning the loss of his mother. I wish him well.
For the public, we are all dealing with this in our own way. I am not travelling to London to join The Queue to see her lying in state, but I am full of admiration for those who are willing to wait in line for five miles and 24 hours to do so. Could there be any more magnificent, quintessentially British tribute? For me, I was glad to join (in person) the brief service, minute's silence and national anthem at the start of the Great North Run last weekend, to sign a book of condolence at the town hall, and to watch some of the key events on television. These have all helped me to mentally process a peculiar mix of grief for a stranger's death, a sense of living through a moment of national history, and a collective experience in which there are so many differing views and individual stories.
I think all that remains for me to say is thank you, Ma'am. Rest in peace, now your duty is done. We were so very lucky to have had you as our Queen. x