Her Majesty's state funeral

 Her Majesty's state funeral.

It was the most beautiful royal state funeral of all time, certainly in our lifetime. This morning had a unique and unforgettable feel to it. It had an indefinable quality that none of us could really explain or describe but then again there can be no specific category any of today's events would ever fit into neatly. We were all lost for words, stunned into silence, spellbound by the sheer enormity of the day, its solemn gravitas, its sense of terrible loss of somebody we hardly knew by person but who still had the capacity to make us cry, laugh and smile at the same time. We knew it would be like this so there was never any disappointment.

At 11.00 this morning the coffin of Her Majesty Our Gracious Queen Elizabeth the second left her lying in state venue at Westminster Hall and began the journey home to the place where everybody had given her the full red-carpet treatment so welcoming that it felt as if we'd all known her personally. She reminded you of the lady next door who would always stop in the middle of high street shopping centre and always engage you in convivial conversation. She was that amiable and kindly neighbour who would invite you in for a cup of tea and a slice of cake, making you feel a million dollars. 

It was a fair and bright September morning and you could the full weight of history on your shoulders. For well over 70 years Her Majesty the Queen has behaved with impeccable civility, propriety and humility. She has conveyed a regal elegance and style that always decorated the big public occasions in our lives. She has risen above petty politics, the heckling and haranguing of our sometimes disgraceful politicians, spoken with perfect eloquence at dinners, banquets, the Opening of Parliament, the yearly Christmas Queen's Speech and of course a measured precision while the rest of the country thought she'd forgotten the late Princess Diana. 

And then so aptly she reduced us to helpless laughter when a small bear called Paddington joined her for tea and marmalade sandwiches. Her Majesty had always kept her marmalade sandwiches in her trusty bag and the humour was never lost on us. For years and years Her Majesty would appear at the balcony at Buckingham Palace to acknowledge the adoring cheers of the public. She would smile almost endlessly, wave with refinement and then close the windows before re-joining the family that meant the world to her.

Today was very much about fond farewells, the passing of the baton from one generation to the next and generally indulging in memories, affectionate reminiscences and expressions of the deepest love, perhaps idolatry and genuine tenderness. We dug deep into our childhood and knew that Her Majesty had always been that calming influence, that soothing balm in a world of often dramatic change and evolution. Sometimes it all became too frantic and frenetic, hurried and often chaotic but our gracious Queen never seemed to be flustered, showing very few signs of agitation or anguish, always there for us when we needed her to be.

And so it was that the most stately of state funeral wended its slow and steady way through the streets of London. On the heaviest dark green gun carriage you're ever likely to see, our Queen passed along the Mall in a such a decorous and traditional manner that it almost felt we'd seen the same ceremony over and over again. On both sides of the Mall there were all the manifestations of royalty at its finest. There were row upon row of Union Jacks, a vast outpouring of emotion and patriotism that lifted your heart to its highest point. 

You couldn't help but notice that air of familiarity about today's events that was so recognisable that perhaps only Britain could have presented the kind of united front when faced with a crisis or death. Usually, we could always count on Her Majesty's landmark Jubilees to cheer us all up but this was starkly different and for some painfully so. Her Majesty the Queen had passed and this was the ultimate tragedy.

The one woman most of Britain, the world and Commonwealth had always held up as the most exemplary of monarchs had died and we could hardly hold this one together. But we did and it was a testament to our strength of character that we could just bow our heads reverentially and wipe away our tears since we too felt the numbness and hollowness that only a major public funeral can bring to the surface of our hearts. 

For the last week and a half or so we have followed the mass crowds as they've slowly walked around the catafalque that held the coffin of our Queen. We have seen their glazed stares, their bemused glances, that sense of being transfixed and astonished by something for which there are no words. Every so often one of the guards tapped a stick into the ground repeatedly and we wondered whether this ceremony had taken on a medieval complexion.

But today the coffin, draped lovingly in the red and yellow cloth that had accompanied our journey to Westminster Abbey, reached the front doors of the Abbey. Westminster Abbey remains one of the most imposing and magnificent of tourist sites. It's seen both weddings and funerals throughout the decades but not since 1760 had it seen a royal funeral on this scale. 

Inside Westminster Abbey there was the customary gathering of former Prime Ministers, heads of state from every conceivable corner of the Commonwealth and the world and global ambassadors from places we thought we'd forgotten about. There was the American president Joe Biden with his wife, European, Far East representatives and seemingly every continent you could think of. They took their seats accordingly and began to look around at the soaring grandeur of the Abbey. 

Above them there were vaulted arches, transepts, stained glass windows and of course the angelic young choristers whose voices were so sweet that for a minute that it was rather like listening to a junior school assembly before the lessons. Then the pomp and pageantry that Britain does so well came into its own. Everybody inside this most venerable of all religious buildings sat quietly and respectfully, just thinking and reflecting about the monarch who had played such a significant role in their lives.

And then the hymns and chants came to a natural conclusion. It was a time for Her Majesty to head back to Windsor castle where she would finally be buried. The coffin had become wreathed in  colourful bouquets of flowers, a sight that we'd seen at the funeral of Princess Diana. They threw their roses and carnations, geraniums, yellow sprays, and what looked to be orchids over the hearse and most of us were awe stricken. 

This had represented the final curtain call on this day of all days. We knew it would arrive but were rather hoping it would be any other day than this. Her Majesty the Queen has now joined her mother the Queen Mother, her dearly beloved husband of 73 years Prince Philip the Duke of Edinburgh and her sister Princess Margaret. It felt like the end of an extraordinary and eventful royal era and indeed it was but this may be the perfect opportunity to move into the 21st century with a purposeful step and a confident strut. Rest in Peace Your Majesty and Long Live the King.