This may be a delicate, tricky subject. Or not. As Hazel, my English sister-in-law says, “I am not a royalist.” Should that be capitalized? Neither am I, I suppose. But how about those grandchildren!
This may be totally a generational thing, but just as I can tell exactly the moment I learned President Kennedy was shot, I can tell the moment I learned Princess Diana’s car was in an accident. I was at an art show in Upstate, and my neighbor was a lovely woman with two sons. She and her husband loved the show, where they camped on the grounds and enjoyed their long weekend with the children.
The next morning she greeted me with a happy story about the boys’ adventures, and I could tell she did not know of Diana’s death. I resolved not to be the one who told her. The following day she asked if I knew, and I confessed, and said perhaps I’d ruined her day one way or the other, but I didn’t want to change her happiness. And she said how grateful she was I had been silent.
How closely we followed the funeral ceremonies. How tall William was. How small and crushed down in an oversized suit, Harry. The Queen lowered her head in acknowledgement as Diana passed, and redeemed herself to the world. Wills grew older and taller, followed all the rules and married Kate.
Harry grew older and taller, stupidly broke a lot of common sense rules for which I’m sure his grandmother roundly and soundly busted him. He married a pretty American woman I’m sure he will be hard pressed to fit into the company mold.
These royals show up regularly on my news feeds, no doubt because Google searches them out to present because I am sure to click. However, I’m happy to take a look at Kate’s beautiful dresses and the jewels in the tiaras. Thanks to Charlotte, I know how to wave like a royal (it’s just like washing windows). And little George, bare knees like a proper little English boy, and surely a personality as mischievous as his grin.
And what about Charles? Who ever forgave him for crushing his beautiful young bride with his definition of love? Who didn’t snort when reading all the photographic machinations to keep Diana shorter in pictures? She always was vivacious, smiling, lively in pictures with her boys. Charles often was on the periphery, glum.
I was impressed with Charles understanding of the ecology of the world, as we grew older. He was telling the truth. I believe the Prez told his staffers to keep Charles away; he didn’t need an earful of conservation, or some such. As time passed, it was OK for Charles to marry Camilla, though it will never be OK, for me, for her to be called Queen Camilla.
So, what’s with the face lift! Vain old man, not as old as I am! On the other hand, perhaps I could use one of those face lifts! It’s not a real face lift! Smoke and mirrors and chemicals, I think. And he does look so happy.