My Queen and I
When I was 12 years old, sitting in a classroom in a school in which even an ill-advised look could get you thrown into detention (“ARE YOU BEING INSOLENT, BOY?”), a shout suddenly erupted from the window side of the room. “It’s the Queen! It’s the Queen!”. We all leapt out of our seats to watch Her Majesty gliding past in a Rolls or a Bentley, waving and smiling. Perhaps she was on her way to opening a new facility at the hospital next door or something, I don’t know. It was all very low key and, in its way, rather exciting.
I think for me that epitomised my relationship with the Queen. She always seemed to be accessible in a strange sort of way. Like many people – indeed, most people – I have never known another monarch in this country. And although we all know that people don’t live forever, that truth never seemed applicable in her case.
While we have been expecting the worse for some time, and especially when it became known that the senior members of the Royal Family were headed up to Balmoral, the news still came as a shock. I was taking part in an online discussion when Elaine phoned me to say the Queen had died. A lump appeared in my throat, and I quietly slipped away from the online event and went downstairs to watch the news unfold.
For me, as I suspect for many people, the Queen epitomised the British values of stoicism and stiff-upper-lipness. Not for her all this public emoting, and certainly not for her all the self-congratulation so beloved of many.
She had a great sense of humour too, as displayed in the way her arrival at the Olympics in 2012 was depicted:
James Bond escorts The Queen to the opening ceremony | London 2012 Olympic Games - BBC
You may also enjoy this personal recollection from Cali Bird:
Lovely post about your memories, Terry.
I felt sad, too. It feels as if an era of grace and dignity left with her.