OPINION: Whenever we mourn someone, some funny old memories come up.
With Queen Elizabeth, it is all about the time I pocketed one of her teacups. And full disclosure, I took one of her saucers too.
As the crowds flocked into Buckingham Palace on Monday, I could not help but hark back to the time I came my closest to her.
It was her annual summer tea party, where invites went out across her Kingdom.
Loyal subjects from all walks of life got the nod: a butcher from Wiltshire, a teacher from Kent - and a young fellow from New Zealand.
I was living in London on my OE and my invite had come through our High Commission which got a small number for Kiwis.
These invites were put into a ballot and a friend working there gave me a nudge-nudge-wink-wink to apply. And surprise, surprise, I won a spot.
I can remember standing there on a sunny day with the thousands of other lucky punters.
There were some tents on the lawn with teapots, cups and saucers. Some cute sandwiches on little plates.
I noted there was no insignia on them, obviously so nobody would be tempted to take them as a souvenir.
The first people I met were a couple from one of England’s counties and they were so happy to be there they looked as if one of their kids was about to get married.
I watched Prince Phillip saunter out the back doors. I remember thinking it was cool how the Palace pretty much just had a back deck with french doors.
I watched the Prince start to mingle by walking down an orderly line that snaked across the lawn. I remember thinking he was a lot taller than I imagined.
Soon the Queen followed. I remember she was wearing pastel yellow. Again, an orderly line formed, snaking its way down the garden.
I waited as she came down the line. Finally, the Queen, quite a tiny figure, was about half a metre from me.
It felt surreal. It wasn’t a case of being star-struck. It was more like seeing something “other-worldly”. Not like a ghost, but more like an angel.
She got to where I was standing. I remember she talked softly with the woman next to me in quite a lot of detail about a particular hospice charity the woman was involved with.
I remember looking along the line and everybody was looking beatific like they were in the presence of something truly special.
I retreated into the tent and had another cup of tea.
Then for reasons, I cannot really remember now I pocketed the cup and saucer.
I took the plain white cup and saucer out of Buckingham Palace like it was some rare artefact.
And I eventually brought the cup and saucer back to New Zealand with me. I’ve kept it to this day.
If anybody else ever found my cup and saucer, they would wonder why I had them. There is no way anybody would ever know what it was, it has no meaning other than to me.
It is only now embedded in this Royal grief that I have taken the time to reflect on my royal misdemeanour.
Because for all of the history and tradition, the Queen and the Monarchy have something else - magic.
Here now, a little older and wiser, I can really feel the magic around the monarchy. There really is something you can’t define, something that is simply magic.
And I guess that back in the day, I wanted to hang on to a bit of that magic in my cup and saucer.
So if long after I am gone, someone comes across them, please note: they are not a plain white cup and saucer. They are Queen Elizabeth’s cup and saucer, and they hold the “magic of the monarchy”.
And from all I have learnt about the Queen, I am sure she will not have minded a young Kiwi holding onto them.
Thank you, your Majesty.
Patrick Gower is Newshub's National Correspondent.
