I know what my darling grandmother meant to so many other people. She literally enriched their lives, and she was the original life enhancer, whether publicly or privately, whoever she was with. And in many ways, I think she's become an institution in her own right, a presence in the nation and in other realms and territories beyond these shores. At once indomitable, somehow timeless, able to span the generations. Wise, loving, with an utterly irresistible mischievousness of spirit. A mostly strong character, combined with a unique, natural grace and an infectious optimism about life itself.
Above all, though, she understood the British character, and her heart belonged to this ancient old land and its equally indomitable and humorous inhabitants whom she served with panache, style and unswerving dignity for very nearly 80 years.
I know too what she meant to the whole of my family, particularly to the Queen, for whom she was always such a stalwart and sensitive support ever since my grandfather died when he was only two-and-a-half years older than I am now.
And for me, she meant everything, and I had dreaded, dreaded this moment along with, I know, countless others. Somehow, I never thought it would come. She seemed gloriously unstoppable and ever since I was a child, I adored her. Her houses were always filled with an atmosphere of fun, laughter and affection, and I learned so much from her of immense value in my life. Apart from anything else, she wrote such sparklingly wonderful letters, and her turn of phrase could be utterly memorable.
But, above all, she saw the funny side of life, and we laughed 'til we cried, and oh how I shall miss those laughs. And the wonderful wisdom borne of so much experience and of an innate sensitivity to life. She was, quite simply, the most magical grandmother you could possibly have, and I was utterly devoted to her. Her departure has left an irreplaceable chasm in countless lives that, thank God, we're all richer for the sheer joy of her presence and everything she stood for.
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