Dear Queen Elizabeth:

I miss you dearly. The day you died it was as if my grandmother died all over again.

I’ve always had a morbid obsession with the royal family. I’ve read all the books about your family from Diana, by Andrew Morton, to A Royal Duty, by Paul Burrell, to Spare by your grandson, Prince Harry and many more. All of them were fascinating, although not always true.

Throughout my life I have grown up with you. I was born in 1962 so by the time we met you were already Queen of England. As I grew, so did you. I was a shy little girl with many insecurities. To me, you were a vision of beauty, grace and commitment. I would learn later that you probably had the same insecurities as I did.

My grandmother was the matriarch of our family, although we were far from royalty. She had the same stature; petite, always wore a dress, never pants. Wore modest heels and always carried a handbag. As a small child I remember her always having hard candy in her bag, a way to keep me quiet during Sunday church services. She even had the same hairstyle. All during my childhood she and I were close. She was my everything and my example of what it was to be a strong beautiful woman, head of the family, and full of love, just like you.

I guess what happened when Nani got Alzheimer’s is when there was a switch. The last time I saw my grandmother was in 1988. I’d lived in Florida, had a baby, and came home to visit. When I visited her, she didn’t remember me. See, I’d been away for a while. Alzheimer’s disease does that to a person. I left that day carrying my six-month-old baby boy, tears streaming down my face, vowing to never see her again. I wanted to remember as she’d been all my life. I couldn’t watch her wither away. For the next eight years my grandmother hung on to her life.

They say that God works in mysterious ways. What I am about to tell you, Elizabeth, is proof of that. During the years after I saw her last, I would pray for Nani every day. My Aunt, her caretaker, and my father would keep my abreast of her condition, which was slowly deteriorating. In the Autumn of 1996, she was declining quickly and by mid-November that year, we knew the end was near.

I continued to pray that God would take her home so she could be with the love of her life, my Papa Sam. I knew He was listening, but she was hanging on. Then, on December 19, 1996, I got a call from my father telling me that my grandmother had passed away. I took a deep sigh and cried. They were tears of relief that her battle was finally over. You see God gave me the greatest gift that day, he took my beloved Nani home, on my birthday. It was one of the greatest gifts he ever gave me.

I watched you grow old, lose family members, and your beloved Philip. You took each setback with dignity and grace. Unlike my grandmother, you had all your facilities till the end of your life. You didn’t have to suffer, you went quickly. I believe God knew your work here was done, and it was time for you to go home.

Thank you, Elizabeth, for doing God’s work, staying true to your faith and loyal to your family. I’ll continue to miss you.