At 6am every day, I open my back door and sit with a cuppa to listen to the pigeon cooing on the garage roof and the blackbirds twittering.
But on Monday, my garden was strangely silent.
Seeing half-mast flags lying limply on telly in London showed there was no breeze. It was as if nature and the nation stood still that day, as if the country was at perfect peace.
Anyone who has lost someone they loved will have sharply felt the emotion of the Queen’s funeral.
Your head turns to talk to your other half, who is not there.
It didn’t help that the funeral was held on the anniversary of my wedding to my late husband, Colin.
I’d welled up long before I heard Love Divine at Westminster Abbey – a hymn we sang at Col’s funeral. Then I blubbed.
I thought of the Royal Family not as dignitaries, but as ordinary people.
I worried they’d be choking for a cup of tea throughout such a long, wrought day in the spotlight. I hoped they’d had a good breakfast.
The country has felt a bit wobbly lately. But watching our regal new Princess of Wales and adorable little Princess Charlotte, who gave Prince George a nudge to remind him to bow, made me feel that our future is in safe hands.
I’m glad King Charles has gone to Balmoral to grieve in private with no need to shake hands, smile or bottle everything up when he’s cut up inside.
If I was looking after him, I’d say: “Come on now, babes. I know you’ve been through the mill. Less of this stiff upper lip, just let it all out and have a bloody good cry.”
Peaceful time in the stunning scenery which his mother loved so much is just what he needs.
When grief is so deep and raw, everyone wants to give you a hug, a drink or comfort food – but nothing really helps.
Perhaps the only thing that eases the pain is knowing how many people loved the one you lost.
After seeing our incredible military perform with such precision, the BBC’s impeccable coverage and so many members of the public turn out, I hope the Royal Family knows how much the Queen meant to us.
Brotherly feud is so sad to witness
I didn’t see Princes William and Harry share a single word when they were on telly throughout the 10 days of mourning. That’s a sad state of affairs for two brothers who used to be so close.
Only one person in the world understands exactly how the other felt when they lost their mum, and now their beloved Granny.
Knowing they’ve been through so much and are now warring is yet another tragedy.
If my Jonathan and Robert fell out after I’d died, I’d haunt them. I’d make a big gust of wind mess up our Rob’s hair after he’d put a whole load of lacquer in it.
And as he likes his house as tidy as his hair, I’d throw all his cushions on the floor.
For Jonathan, I’d wait until he sat down to watch Manchester United play and I’d make his telly go funny and send wavy lines across the screen.
Food for thought on upsetting day
My friend Janet watched the Queen’s funeral at my house, so neither of us widows were alone.
I explained that when I’m upset, I get a knot in my stomach and can’t eat.
Janet said: “You can’t eat? Well the two salmon sandwiches I just put on the table must’ve just disappeared.”
I’m the brains in a family of stars
Our Robert’s youngest son, Freddie, is the type of lad who does his homework on the bus. So you can imagine how we all felt when his GCSE results were all A, A* and A**.
My cousin John’s granddaughter scored ten A**. So I told John, as the matriarch of our family, they all got their brains from me.
You can’t beet a messy sandwich!
A beetroot butty is my new favourite snack – delicious, if a bit soggy.
But it’s murder on my snuggly dressing gown which is now splattered with pink.
Will that stop me eating them? Don’t be ridiculous.
