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Like so many others, when the news came that the Queen had died, I was surprised by the emotion I felt. A tear rolled down my cheek and I was bewildered by it.
Why would I cry for a woman I barely knew? Was it because she was always there, a steady, calm, somehow reassuring focus point in an increasingly discombobulated world? Or was it because one of the last links with my parents’ generation had been severed?