A Price

It would be nice to say our paths had crossed, but, of course, that is untrue.

The closest that moment came was while visiting friends in Staines, UK, my husband and I took a train to Windsor.

While enjoying a traditional cup of tea in a small shop opposite the majestic castle the Monarch called home. we noticed her Royal Standard was flying in the breeze.

As I listened to the grim news today, I wondered again about this woman who although obviously while living a life quite different from mine, did share a few similarities.

I always believed each of us had met and married our own storybook Prince.

Then as young Mothers we were both gifted with the additional blessing of four children, three sons and a daughter.

And of course, that is precisely where any similarity ended for several decades.

Until the day not so long ago when I watched her alone in the vast Cathedral mourning her beloved, and I knew our lives hadn’t been completely different.

The grief I knew we now shared was the price we both paid for love.

And I doubt if either of us ever regretted that.

Good night, Good lady.

You have earned your sleep.