You were 25 years old when you came to the throne, to be Queen Regnant of thirty-two sovereign states. Your reign of 70 years and 214 days is the longest of any British monarch and any female head of state in history. But you know that.
Fourteen film actresses have played you, during your 70 year reign and across various stages of your life. But it was you that was constantly watched by the world, from the time you were a teen until the day you quietly, regally moved on.
How magnificent you were in 7 decades of immense social, political and economic change—remaining at all times reserved, un-rattled and trustworthy. Behind that face on our television screens, in picture frames in government buildings and school hallways all over the commonwealth, and on our money—was someone who must have been incredibly complicated.
You often spoke through the wardrobe you chose, from your Norman Hartnell wedding gown, made of satin purchased with ration vouchers, your Launer top-handle handbags, Hermes headscarves, big brooches, brimmed hats and your eloquent use of colours. You never tried to keep up with fads or trends or the boys. Preferring instead, your own individual style that conveyed feminine beauty and power.
It seemed that somehow, beneath the triumphs and tragedy that was your life, you never lost touch with the girl who by royal circumstance was asked to give up her youth in order to wear the crown. I hope that somehow, somewhere, you can now kick off your sensible pumps and dance like no one is watching.