Last moment of reflection - "Lying in State"

Last moment of reflection - "Lying in State"

Back at my desk, and about to focus on the business of the day, I wanted to share a last personal reflection from our week of mourning.

36 hours ago my son and I were just back from the most amazing experience paying our respects to the Queen after queuing for 14 hours overnight.

I only realised how deeply I had been touched by the Queen’s death on the way home. I had visibly struggled to control my emotions, tears welling in my eyes, while talking with another passenger about the day’s events. Somewhat embarrassedly the well-meaning passenger curtailed her questions and adopted a demeanour of supportive empathy. All the while nodding knowingly at my exhausted 13 year old doing an impression of a nodding donkey as he struggled to stay awake.

The journey had begun the night before when we left home in Hazlemere at 11pm for the tube in Amersham. A cancelled tube meant a scramble to reach Chalfont and Latimer tube and intersect with the Chesham train.

We began our pilgrimage in Southwark Park receiving our luminescent wrist bands and blankets before heading off on the most circuitous route to Tower Bridge one could imagine.

In the cold of last night we made our very slow way through the streets of London while chatting and befriending our fellow pilgrims – Ruby from Hong Kong, Katie a sustainability manager, her fiancée George and lawyer Helena (who is married to one of the Queen’s honour guards) among others.

It is amazing how close you can become with people through a night of shared purpose with accompanying hardship. Ruby especially was with us every step of the way.

We snaked our way through London’s streets taking in Tower Bridge at night and in the early daylight. We were entertained with the sight of the bridge opening to let through a high masted vessel. In fact we were caught in the environs of Tower Bridge for several hours when the queue simply stopped moving altogether.

Thereafter we trundled past the who’s who of London sights – some close up and others in the background including: the London Eye, St Pauls, the National Theatre, South Bank, the Millennium Bridge, the Lloyds Building, HMS Nelson, City Hall, County Hall and finally the Houses of Parliament.

While marching and trudging through London’s historical landmarks, all the time following our seemingly never-ending queue, we shared our experiences of the Queen and the Royal Family while simultaneously revealing ourselves to complete strangers and soon to be friends.

It took nearly 14 hours to reach Westminster Hall for our 10 minutes in the presence of her majesty – a ten minutes never to be forgotten.

With my son and Ruby we entered the huge historical hall topped by its dark wooden beamed ceiling. Immediately on entering the room we were greeted by her majesty’s coffin lying in state surrounded by her liveried guards resplendent in their sparkling and breastplates and helmets, resting their white gloved hands on the hilts of swords themselves tip down on the floor. Down from the guardsmen were the Beefeaters of the Tower of London and an outer cordon of smartly dressed and vigilant police officers.

Then comes the emotion. You would think after such a long time walking and queuing I would be rather dulled and my senses befuddled and blunted. The opposite was true. Confronted with the sight of the coffin of the only monarch I had known throughout my entire life something churned in my stomach. Pride and affection welled up

As luck would have it a loud tap tap was heard and the changing of the honorary guard was initiated. An absolute bonus for us all. A sight to savour and an extension to our time spent with her majesty. I feel truly blessed.

Once the changeover had been faultlessly executed by the guardsman and Beefeaters. The public session began again. I approached the coffin, looked at it for a moment then bowed my head with my hand over my heart. I have no idea if this was the correct thing to do but it seemed appropriate to me at the time. Exiting the hall I turned back and did the same.

The depth of my connection in that moment must have been evident as my teenage son on seeing my face as I exited from the hall asked, concernedly, if I was alright, if I had seen a ghost. No, I had not seen a ghost. I had, though been fully in the moment, fully connected to the scene before me and through that scene to the remarkable Queen whose life of service we were celebrating and who, I for one, will sorely miss.

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