As you have all seen by now, Her Royal Highness, Queen Elizabeth II, has died. She was 96 years old, and apparently died surrounded by pretty much the entire Royal Family. She was the longest-reigning monarch in British history, living through no less than FIFTEEN Prime Ministers and acting as the head of state for the entire British Empire, and then the British Commonwealth, for seven decades.
It had to happen. Father Time remains undefeated, always. And, at the age of 96, having served her country since the very young age of just 17 as a driver and a mechanic in the Territorial Army, she has certainly earned her eternal rest.
There is much and more that we could say about the Queen’s reign. I leave that to others – this is not the time or place to engage in such discussion. All I will say is that Her Majesty did her duty to the very end.
For that, she deserves the utmost respect. And that is precisely what she will get from me, and from most of the British nation – what is left of it, anyway.
For now, though, my sincere condolences to the Windsor family, and to the British people, who have lost one of the last remaining foundations of their national identity.