I will miss Queen Elizabeth. I didn’t know her personally, of course, but her reliable presence was comforting in a strange sort of way.
She was always there in her brightly colored outfits (saying she “must be seen to be believed”), shaking hands with well-wishers, accepting small bouquets of flowers from children. She seemed, I don’t know, nice, like she was the type of person who might genuinely listen to your problems and be able to offer a kind and sensible solution.
Maybe none of that is true. Maybe she wasn’t like that at all, but I kind of enjoyed feeling like she was. In a world filled with blustering political leaders, Queen Elizabeth appeared quiet and resolved, solid in a world that is anything but.
For 70 years, she held her role as both mom and monarch, weathering the same problems other people do – marital discord, wayward children, encounters with self-serving wannabes – with style and grace. When Harry and Megan announced that they would rather not shoulder the duties of the royal family, Queen Elizabeth said, in essence, “Okey Dokey. Leave your keys and credit cards on the table on the way out.” Then she put on her hat and went forth to shoulder those duties herself. You gotta love that.
Queen Elizabeth knew who she was and who she was not. She didn’t really run the kingdom. The people in Great Britain elect representatives to make all the real decisions just like we do. In the United States, we reconsider our choice for president every four years. In Great Britain, the position of prime minister is more precarious. A person could be ejected from 10 Downing Street during his or her lunch break. The position is always up for grabs. But, whoever showed up in her office, Queen Elizabeth brought into the fold, year after year.
I like to imagine that, in her private moments, Queen Elizabeth shook her head about some of the cast of international characters that she was asked to welcome to the palace, but it never showed. She was gracious. She was elegant. I’m going to miss that.
Things will change now. That is certain. But, what happens immediately is clear. The Queen’s son, Charles, will succeed her. And his son William will succeed him. The only question in the transfer of power seemed to be who would be given custody of the Corgis. Apparently, Prince Andrew was awarded that job. One brother becomes king. One brother takes care of the dogs. Such is life.
I’m ashamed to admit that I had to do a bit of research on Prince Edward. It seems he has been quietly fulfilling his royal duties all the while, a fitting tribute to his mom. I was impressed to find out that Princess Anne had been nominated for the Nobel Peace Prize in 1990. It doesn’t get better than that. But, my favorite story comes from 1974, when someone tried to kidnap Princess Anne at gunpoint. When the assailant, who had already shot three people, ordered her to get out of the car, she is reported to have said, “Not bloody likely.” She’s going to be just fine, too.
I hope King Charles succeeds in his succession, although I have to tell you that I cannot say “King Charles” without my mind adding the word “Spaniel.” The man has big shoes to fill … or maybe, more accurately, small ones. Quiet ones. Humble ones.
I wish only good things for King Charles. I hope he remembers the lessons his mom put forth. They will serve him well.
