The Queen and My Mother Alice
In the 10-day period of mourning following the death of Queen Elizabeth II, the world is focused on the extraordinary life and dedicated service of a woman who has touched millions of lives for as long as many of us can remember. She was queen of an empire and later commonwealth for 70 years. All the while she was a devoted wife, mother, grandmother, and great-grandmother to her family. To her nation, she was a stabilizing true north in times of trouble and grief when what was needed was to stay calm and carry on.
As I write, I find myself reflecting on not only the Queen’s life, but my mother’s as well. From a distance, Elizabeth was a part of my life for over three quarters of a century. Her mother, the Queen Mum—wife of King George VI—and my Granny were born two weeks apart in 1900, just as the 20th century was getting underway. In 1919, Mother was born on a military post on the outskirts of San Antonio when the army was still the U.S. Cavalry. She grew up surrounded by officers wearing tall riding boots and jodhpurs and learned to ride as a young girl.
Elizabeth, while born in 1926 into Britain’s royal family, was most at home in the countryside, mucking about in boots or riding one of her beloved horses. Throughout her reign, one of her joys was following the successes of her stable of horses at the racetrack. The Queen’s nickname as a child was Lilibeth—the name chosen by Prince Harry and his wife Megan Markle for their second child in honor of his beloved grandmother. May Lilibeth grow up in her great-grandmother’s image and be a role-model for the next generation of young girls and women.
As a 14-year-old girl during World War II, Elizabeth spoke to children on the radio about making a difference in the war effort. My own mother was a model of service, caring as a military wife for my 2 ½ year old sister Molly and me while our father—a pilot in the Army Air Corps— flew dangerous missions in a B-29 in the Pacific theater. The Queen carried on her lifetime of service while raising three sons and a daughter. As my father’s rock during his 30-year military career, my mother Alice raised four daughters and encouraged my sisters and me to go forth into the world and follow our dreams.
Both the Queen and my mother loved animals, most especially horses and dogs. Mother grew up with Wire Fox terriers and collected porcelain figurines of terriers and poodles that graced a side table in her bedroom for decades. Princess Elizabeth was seven when she fell in love with her uncle’s corgi nicknamed “Dookie.” On her 18th birthday, she was given a Pembroke Welsh corgi named Susan that she smuggled beneath a rug in the royal carriage after her wedding to Prince Philip. Over the next six decades, Queen Elizabeth would own more than 30 of Susan’s descendants, treating them as though they were members of her human family.
When I was growing up, my mother introduced Cocker Spaniels and three Bassett hounds into our family. In her senior years, she embraced the golden retrievers that my sisters Molly and Kelly adored. Among of my favorite images of the Queen and my mother are snapshots of them quietly sharing food from their plates with their canine companions, ever present and ready to devour any royal crumbs that came their way.
Both the Queen and my mother were elegant beauties and as stylish as Vogue models. As the Queen’s hair styles changed over the decades, my mother’s hair mirrored the length, style, color, and fullness of her Majesty’s. And always there was the ubiquitous handbag balanced on the Queen’s forearm wherever she went, and wherever my mother went.
Earlier this year, the Queen invited Paddington Bear for tea at Buckingham Palace on the anniversary of her Platinum Jubilee. “Tea?” she asks Paddington. Putting the spout of the royal teapot to his mouth, Paddington drinks all but a drop as the Queen quietly watches from across the table. Realizing his royal gaff, the adorable bear reaches under his red hat and offers the Queen a Ma’malade sandwich. “I always keep one in case of emergencies,” he explains. Smiling warmly, the Queen opens her purse, takes out her own marmalade sandwich and says, “So do I. I carry mine in here, for later.” To which Paddington softly remarks, “Happy Jubilee, Ma’am. And thank you for everything.”
To which I raise a toast of my own. “Thank you, your Majesty, and thank you my darling mother for everything. I will miss you both for the rest of my journey.”
