I sat and watched the incredible farewell to Queen Elizabeth. I was just drained. The details, the pomp, the myrtle in the wreath, the breaking of the staff, the lone bagpiper. The tradition was thick and satisfying, and I wept. To be sure I am a sucker for any show of military precision – bring on the drums – and wild about a man in uniform. But this Yank’s show of mourning speaks more about stirred memories than some misplaced national pride.
Friends know that I am a staunch Anglophile but are mildly surprised to find it preceded my marrying a Brit. It seems odd considering my grandmother emigrated from County Cavan, close to Northern Ireland in location and spirit. In fact, whispers of gun running for the IRA involving distant cousins are woven through family lore. But I was weaned on all things British by my mother, from milky tea to classic British comedies.
Mom felt a modest affinity with the queen and saw herself as living a life in parallel. Elizabeth, who was just a year older than my mother, became monarch in 1952, the same year my parents married. The end of WWII was just over their shoulders – mom had volunteered as an Aircraft Warning Service plane spotter and Elizabeth drove ambulances with the British military. The war was a great leveler and brought the Princess closer to all who lived through it, even a young American girl helping the war effort across the Atlantic.
As time moved forward, the queen and her consort had four children, three boys and one girl who was second born, all mirrored by my parents. This did not go unnoticed by my mother. She would keep tabs on all things English and I was the better sponge for all this. While my brothers were into hard rock and out trolling the neighborhood with friends, I was gobbling up episodes of “To the Manor Born” and “Open All Hours.” Our east coast PBS was British-centric and it was something I was able to share with my mom.
The passion remains. I stream Acorn and Britbox, my soap of choice is Eastenders, I can recite any dialog from Midsomer Murders, and our VPN subscription has become my new best friend. (wink, wink)
So, while I admired this sad but stunning send off by the British people, special memories framed my own moment of remembrance.
Momalotlife's Blog 