I have a fascination with the Royal Family so decided to camp out in front of the TV last night and sleep my way through King Charles' coronation.
After Queen Elizabeth died, I watched several documentaries of her life and thought I had a glimmer of an idea what to expect. What I forgot is the running commentary and skip-to-the-highlights reel within said documentaries.
Watching a coronation unfold in real time, while drifting in and out of sleep is not something I will do again any time soon.
First of all, with all of those robes and wardrobe changes (Charles had as many costume changes as Cher and none of them quite as fascinating), I had a very hard time keeping track of the star of the show. At one groggy point of the ceremony, I saw a balding grey haired man in a robe take a sip out of a golden goblet. I automatically assumed it was the new King. Then he turned around and shared the contents of the goblet with a few more people after giving them (what looked like a chip) what I believe must have been "host" and this was part of a communion (?).
I have not fact checked one iota of what I'm writing and I was in and out of sleep and various stages of grogginess but it was pretty hard to follow in a dream like state.
Where were William and family? Where was Harry? Where was the rest of the family? Why were they not panning the audience with the cameras to showcase the supporting cast? Why can't I understand anything that is being said? Remember, I was mostly asleep throughout.
When I finally woke up and stayed awake, they were saying the Lord's Prayer. That's a good sign, I thought. That must mean things are winding up. I was wrong. There were a few more hymns, a few more prayers and a blessing to go. All I could think was the Royal Training must begin at a very young age for William and Kate's children to be so well behaved for such a long ceremony.
Throughout the ceremony, I had intertwined the soundtrack of the coronation within a dream I was having. I was sitting with Mom in a huge churchlike place. People everywhere, hymns, people coming and going. The performance went on and on and on. At one point, I looked over at Mom and she had an unlit cigarette in her mouth and she dryly said, "I think I'm going to start smoking again".
I was relieved when the narrative of the commentators came back and I chastised myself for losing a night's sleep over something that will be replayed and rehashed over the next long while (honestly, I didn't lose much sleep - my dream with Mom and me in attendance was much, much longer and more detailed and included cameos of Boris Johnson and Barack Obama - don't ask ... it was a long and complicated dream).
I have been reading and listening to Harry's book "Spare", thus Harry was very much in my thoughts. I haven't finished his book yet but as he recalls his memories, thoughts and feelings as he grew up and beyond, I can only see him as the individual I perceive him to be by his honest recount. Diana was a year and a half younger than me and right from the moment she married Charles, I slipped her shoes on for size and knew I wouldn't want to walk a block in them. To read/listen to her youngest son's first hand narrative of his life and not be a larger part of his father's coronation felt wrong to me. All wrong.
When any belief system or set of rules creates a clear cut "you are in or you are out" chasm in a family, I tend to be suspicious and question the source of the division. The rules the Royal Family must adhere to, all the while, living life under the wide lens camera with a bounty on pictures that create a story that sells papers makes me marvel at the job Queen Elizabeth did for 70 years.
While all the pomp and circumstance was interesting and news worthy, my heart went out to those who were not a part of the Buckingham Palace balcony scenario. I saw a family divided and putting on a good show for the world.
As Mom once said, "A person never knows what goes on behind closed doors". We will never truly know what it is like to walk in a Royal's shoes and maybe we should be grateful to live our quiet little lives without public scrutiny.
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