It doesn’t matter what you think of the British Royal family. It doesn’t matter what you think of them, or their nation, or anything else, as a matter of fact. I don’t care if you are the most ardent Irish Republican, or American Trumpist, or Indian anti-colonialist: all you have to do is take one look at this picture and you too will get a tear in your eye.
There’s an old, old saying that everyone dies alone. Even if you agree with that as truth, you can still share in a truth that is almost as important: No one should mourn alone.
Leave aside the politics and history and just share the humanity. This woman has lost the most important thing in her world. For more than three-quarters of her life, she has shared the burdens — all the ups and downs— with one man, and he is now gone. You can lie to yourself for some time after a loved one has died. You can lie to yourself until that one moment comes…
I know this because I’ve done it.
For Elizabeth Mountbatten-Windsor, this picture is that one moment. This is the moment where it all becomes real. I don’t give two shits about the rest of the family’s Kardashian-level stupidity. I don’t care about her feuding grandsons, or her legally imperiled son, or anything else. All that truly strikes me is one woman, bereft and alone…
