Her Majesty the Queen passes.

 Her Majesty the Queen passes.

This has to be the saddest day of our lives. You can hardly hold back the floods of tears. Her Royal Highness Her Majesty died yesterday at 96 at one of the many homes she used to call her home. For those of us who have formed a firm, emotional attachment to the Queen this was devastating news if perhaps not entirely unexpected. It'll be front page news and every page in all of our esteemed national newspapers. It'll be the obituary most of us have been dreading to see. We shall cry and sob until the streams of tears roll down our cheeks. Perhaps we'll be upset and grief stricken for the rest of the year and long into the future. 

For over seven decades Her Majesty the Queen was everything you could want as monarch of the United Kingdom and the Commonwealth. Her qualities have now been well documented. She was the gentlest, warmest and most charming sovereign. She kept abreast of all the latest technological inventions and discoveries, anxious to be kept informed of everything society was doing at the time. She was modern, intrigued, fascinated, always smiling and above all else a shining beacon of stability in a world that may have had other ideas.

Yesterday we bid a fond and final farewell to our gracious, graceful, dignified and majestic Queen of both the UK, the Commonwealth and the rest of the world. She had tact and diplomacy when asked awkward and uncomfortable questions and was always ready and willing to listen to those in pain and suffering without ever passing judgment on those who may have been sceptical of her. The Queen remained both politically impartial, culturally curious and just interested in young and old. But now Her Majesty's long reign spanning a record 75 years had come to a moving and poignant end. 

At Balmoral Castle yesterday evening we were told, quite heartbreakingly, that Her Majesty the Queen had peacefully passed away surrounded by her doting and loving family. It must have been the one moment in their lives that they must have feared but then reluctantly accepted as fact. For some time the Queen has been unwell, experiencing serious mobility problems but then you'd probably have expected her to be incapacitated. 

The rumours have been flying around the world for some time. Last year of course she lost her beloved husband of 73 years The Duke of Edinburgh and this may have been considered the end of the world for Her Majesty. Philip was, as she must have said repeatedly, her rock and stay, the man who stood next to her faithfully at every gathering of presidents, kings and queens and of course the public. She sat next to the assembled company at large royal banqueting tables and carried out all of her duties with admirable aplomb, seemingly nerveless, cool as a cucumber and imperturbable at all times. When the Queen laughed and smiled so did the rest of the world. 

And yet this news has yet to sink in properly. Besides it's almost impossible to believe that anybody could hope to either emulate or surpass her colossal and phenomenal achievements throughout the  decades. She was tireless, possessed of remarkable powers of stamina and adaptable in a world that may have been reluctant to follow in her lead. She was a loving mother, grandmother and great grandmother, a constant force of good, almost overly kind and understanding without ever resorting to over sentimentality.

When the Queen's father King George the sixth passed away a young Princess of Elizabeth was on holiday in Kenya in 1952 with Prince Philip. The world stopped spinning for a while but recognised that it had to move on and usher in a brand-new era in the history of the Royal Family.At the time of course Britain was still sore and raw after the horrors of the Second World War. Most goods were still under severe rationing. The world was still trapped in a state of semi mourning and loss.

Suddenly the onerous task facing a new Queen became the greatest responsibility any new monarch would ever undertake. The Queen's first Prime Minister Winston Churchill was still in charge at 10 Downing Street, a harsh austerity had gripped the 1950s and a young Elizabeth would conduct herself with all the dignity and decorum that always became her. She travelled the world with Prince Philip, waved smilingly at the adoring crowds in open topped cars, opened a million village fetes, cracked  champagne bottles on to countless boats at their launch and worked assiduously every day in her study, ploughing through sizeable quantities of paperwork and more legal documents than any of us could possibly imagine.

But she carried out these duties with an uncomplaining dedication to duty, a quiet industry and wholehearted commitment to the cause of being the monarch who cared. Then there were the innumerable visits to exotic locations in faraway places, the shaking of hands, the weddings, the happy days with family when Prince Philip would think nothing of organising the summer barbecue, climb into go karts with his children and then relax on the Royal Yacht Britannia with his always compassionate wife.

Then Philip would go off on one of his many excursions as an ambassador for Britain and the Commonwealth, bumping up and down intrepidly in those halcyon days of carriage driving, a hobby that endured until his dotage. But the Queen was always there besides her husband, immaculate and elegant, hair perfectly coiffeured, then dressed in sparkling tiara and all the regal finery you'd expect to see from the Royal Family.

There were the summer Highland Games in Scotland, a country she fell in love with you at a very early age. It almost seemed a coincidence that Her Majesty should have passed away in Balmoral. Then there were the yearly New Year's Eve dances, where both Her Majesty and Prince Philip flung aside inhibitions and danced the night away in rich tartan kilts, days of innocent pleasures and good times.

But now the Royal Family has lost its most valuable and cherished member, the woman who held everything together when everything around her seemed to be crumbling into the dust. When the Queen looked in on horror at a burning Windsor Castle in 1992, she must have thought the world was conspiring against her, that everything she must have thought had turned to gold had now become tarnished silver.

Last night Buckingham Palace almost reminded you of that night in 1945 when the world was liberated, released from the torments and travails of the Second World War. Victory in Europe day saw thousands of people jumping for joy, cavorting and carousing, doing the conga dance around the Victoria memorial. Meanwhile, in Trafalgar Square yet more of the masses climbed onto the fabled lions, bottles of Pale Ale in their hands and joy in their hearts. But last night was in marked contrast to that night.

And then there was Princess Elizabeth and her sister Margaret, children at the time but determined to enjoy this most special of nights. Our future Queen ran out into the heaving mass of overjoyed people. They raced, giggling and laughing into the darkness, two girls seeking enjoyment, beside themselves with exultant relief. But Princess Elizabeth would become the complete noblewoman, the Coronation still eight years away.

The day came and went though and June 1953 still has a magical place in our thoughts. It was a seminal moment in all of our lives since from that point onwards Her Majesty the Queen would become the most famous royal in the world. The smile had never been more radiant, her serenity almost her permanent accompaniment wherever she went in the world. Whether it be the traditional Royal Variety Performances at the end of the year or the highly regarded garden parties at Buckingham Palace, Her Majesty the Queen never ever stepped out of line or offended anybody. There will never be a Queen like Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth and how privileged we were to be a part of her magnificent reign. Rest in peace, your Majesty and Long Live the King.