Grief, said the Queen in the aftermath of 9/11, is the price we pay for love.
And how we are grieving now.
They say four billion people will watch her funeral on Monday, gathering in pubs and bars, town squares, churches or at home with their loved ones, watching together as Her Majesty completes her final journey.
Cities will grind to a halt. More than half the people of the Earth will be tuning in. For some it will be the middle of the night, for others the middle of the day. Almost unbelievable.
But for the Queen, it’s true. Over her 70 years on the throne, she has been in all our lives.
She visited more than 100 countries, from the most powerful nations to tiny island states of the Pacific.
Everywhere she went, there were crowds. Just to catch a glimpse of her, to be near her. From heads of state to the people in the street, she was admired, respected – above all, loved.
Thrust into her role as monarch so early in her life, Her Majesty knew the value of planning.
She knew her duty was to ensure things ran smoothly – from the minutiae of royal visits to the highest matters of state.
Even amid her Platinum Jubilee, she was preparing us for the day we were all dreading.
How do we manage? What would she do? What lessons have we learned?
She taught us that faced by turmoil, we can manage if we are together. She taught us grief is OK. Grief is a pause to honour the lost, remember and give thanks.
Grief is natural, it’s all right.
But she taught us too that we must move on. After she is laid to rest, we will turn our eyes to our new King – her son, who despite his own grief pledged to serve us.
And we’ll remember her. She’ll be with us at the Cenotaph, with us at Christmas.
At any great occasion, she’ll still be with us.
It won’t be the same, of course, but it never is. This is the price we pay, all of us, for love.
