The sorrow is sincere. The respect for the woman who has represented a country for so many years is sincere.
There will be gratitude for the enormous care she took at such a contentious time to avoid taking a side, expressing a viewpoint, or deepening the divisions in the nation.
Every country needs a figurehead, and she filled it with extraordinary skill and dignity, no matter how absurd it may have seemed to be born into that position.
How appropriate that she passed away right after carrying out her last and most significant constitutional duty—naming a prime minister (her 15th).
How many people will be grateful that she lived to witness the platinum jubilee’s last celebration. The death of a 96-year-old who persevered till the very end is not tragic. Isn’t that the direction we all want to take?
Because she was concealed behind that imposing façade of monarchy, we never got to know her. But everyone could conjure up their own version of her.
Many people questioned how she managed her difficult children, considering all the scandals and divorces they had. Some households got a mirror image of their own soap operas.
People’s grief will be caused by all the losses and alterations in their own families over the years. My mother witnessed the Queen being displayed as a newborn at Windsor when she was a small child. I vaguely recall waiting for her father’s funeral while standing in a park in the early morning cold and fog.
I initially watched the coronation on television at a friend’s house. The night before Charles and Diana’s wedding, my daughters and I were viewing fireworks in Hyde Park when we almost got crushed. Whether we are royalists or not, their comings and goings leave an impression on us.
There will be sadness over the passing of an era, or perhaps several eras, as she has held the throne for such a long time. We become depressed as time passes and we also weep for ourselves. The fuzzy idea of an Elizabethan era distinguishes our individual and collective histories.
With those images of her in uniform, she served as the final remaining link to the conflict. In her Covid broadcast, she repeated the phrase “We will meet again,” which was a moving elegy for those more communally minded wartime days.
The Commonwealth, that odd remnant she tenaciously clung to, is now all that’s left of the empire, those pink slabs of the world in my old geography book, which came to an end during her reign.
Reigns are significant turning points in our lives, and Shakespeare had common people annotate their own recollections as taking place under this or that king.
Each person has a unique sense of patriotism, a unique manner to show their love for their country, and a unique set of reasons to be proud of all the different facets of this nation. Because Queen Elizabeth reigned for as long as most people can remember, she has a sense of patriotism that may never be duplicated.
She completed all of her tasks. She placed the most importance on transferring the throne to the three kings who would follow her in the far future.
Through seventy years of change and upheaval, she skillfully directed her errant family “business.” With a “Vivat rex!” now. “, there has not been a moment for anyone to think after her final breath. She had planned it that way, which is why she never abdicated in order to retire in her old age.
Majesty’s divine destiny is where its charm lies. All is lost if choice is allowed. There has never been a period when the populace would have picked someone else to rule instead of her because of how wonderfully she did it.
One royal author told BBC News that she is a “impossible act to follow.” Although I’m positive he didn’t mean it that way, he might be correct.