Remembering Her Royal Highness, Queen Elizabeth The Queen Mother
I never knew either one of my
grandmothers…one died the year before I was born, the other within a
month of my arrival. The closest person who played that role for me was a warm
and loving nurse who worked for my grandfather, and she was a grandmother in all
but name.
Upon her death (and burial
in our family plot because she was so beloved), I decided that Queen Elizabeth,
the Queen Mother would be a good substitute grandmother, so I began thinking of
her as my grandma, on the basis that if much of Britain thought of her that way,
one or two of us “colonials” could participate in that
fantasy.
never saw her in person, but I
read a lot about her, heard stories about her, two of which I’ll tell you
in a bit, and, to the best of my knowledge, neither anecdote has ever been
published.
Now this may sound silly or
bizarre or more than a bit “off plumb,” but I genuinely enjoyed
reading about her, watching films and video of her opening this, unveiling that,
going into hospital, leaving hospital, accepting bouquets from small children,
and smiling, endlessly smiling, and waving, endlessly waving to us.
I worried about her when her
grandchildren had marital woes (why did I first type that
“martial?”, I celebrated at the royal occasions of celebration, most
of which she attended, and toward the end, I was concerned about the impact of
the death of her daughter, Princess Margaret, and what it might do to her
otherwise indomitable spirit.
When the
Germans bombed Buckingham Palace, there was considerable damage. Next morning,
the Queen (as she was then) said, “Now, we can look the East End in the
face,” a reference to the pasting that part of London had taken from the
Germans during the Blitz. Who could not love and cheer and wave back at a
monarch like that, one who did not escape to Canada during the War and kept her
daughters close to hand?
With her
support (and indeed, direction), her husband George VI managed to be a better
King than anyone might have expected, and his death, from cancer at a
relatively young age, was a terrible blow to her, but she sailed onto the next
chapters of her life with the same enthusiasm and energy which had marked all
her years.
She loved horses (the late
mystery writer Dick Francis, rode for her for many years, and she enjoyed music,
poetry, art, and a healthy dollop of gin and tonic, it has been
said.
She managed being both royal and
human simultaneously, and that is no mean accomplishment.
I met a man in London who had been
presented to the Queen Mother when she was in her seventies, and he remarked
that they had met before. She inquired where might that have been. “When
you were Chancellor of the University of London, you gave me my diploma,”
he responded. She smiled, touched his arm, and said, “How very kind of
you to remember.” In telling the story, he added, “I fell in love
with her at that instant.” Surely, who would
not?
Just a couple of years ago, a
friend – a poet – was invited to a lunch at which the Queen Mother
was the guest of honor. He was unsure about attending but thought it, at the
least, an interesting opportunity, so he went. After lunch, he was taken to a
sofa for his minutes with her, and as he waited, thought that he’d made a
terrible mistake in coming, she wouldn’t know a thing about his work, and
all the thoughts one has when one believes a train wreck is about to happen
coursed through his brain.
After the
niceties, the Queen Mother sat down next to him and said, “Mr So-And-So,
the poem of yours about Norfolk which I like the best is the one which
begins…,” and she recited much of the text. Turns out she knew
quite a lot about him and his work, and he admitted to a mixture of amazement
and delight at the gift this woman of ninety-nine years had presented to
him.
There is much contemporary
controversy about “the place of royalty in English contemporary
life.” But there is no controversy about the great love and affection
which people of all types held for the Queen Mother. She was
unique.
She had no power, political or
economic, but she will remain one of the great popular memories of our times
– for her courage, her steadfastness, and her grace – but especially
for her smile, and that lovely, regal,
wave.
Posted: Mon - November 24, 2003 at 04:34 PM