The Queen Mum

Sunday, Mar. 31, 2002 - 1:51 a.m.

Today I told Natalie that the Queen Mum had died. We marvelled about how she had lived in three distinct centuries (since I consider the year 1900 to be the last year of the 19th century).

Natalie said: "OH, the poor Queen." I replied, in one of the most banal and inane statements ever: "It's ok. She has a good support system." SUPPORT SYSTEM? have I gone bonkers? Natalie then remarked that I had not seemed upset when Princess Margaret had died. I assured her that I had, indeed, been upset, but had not dwelt on the topic since I feared it would upset her. "I WAS UPSET" she replied emphatically. I marvel that she remember something that happened 7 weeks ago and also that she pulled the name out. I then read Natalie some elegiac poems: a snatch from Milton's "Lycidas" and some Christina Rossetti. I read her Mistress Quickley's moving description of the death of Falstaff. And indeed, there was something slyly Falstaffian about the Queen Mum. Dr. Johnson said, as reported by his faithful scribe, Boswell, "To my question, whether we might not fortify our minds for the approach of death, he answered, in a passion, 'No, Sir, let it alone. It matters not how a man dies, but how he lives. The act of dying is not of importance, it lasts so short a time." BOSWELL, Life of Johnson

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