I have begun watching the Netflix series called The Crown. I always have an aversion to fictional shows or novels about real people, but I heard so much about this one that I wanted to give it a chance. I will return to Episode 2 - a leap for me, as increasingly I have become impatient with books, movies, etc., that don't catch my interest immediately!
But rather than the show itself, I was swept back through the years to my mother and her relationship with the Queen. She was fascinated. And the more I think about it, even though her formal education took place largely in a one-roomed schoolhouse with oiled floors, wood stove, outdoor privies, and scant resources of any kind, her mind bloomed and her imagination bore her aloft. For years after she vicariously traveled to worlds beyond her idyllic country home beside a creek, a mill and her cow Daisy. On the morning of Elizabeth's coronation in 1952, Mother got up in the wee hours to listen on the radio to the ceremony. On the radio, no less! And she faithfully followed her footsteps throughout her life.
Two queens. One who reigns within me forever.
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