We do death superbly in Britain. Nothing demonstrates that more than our state occasions. The Queen’s funeral showed that military precision and attention to the tiniest detail were no enemies of grand emotion, giving us a reassuringly reliable public framework for our collective grief. On Remembrance Day, our connection to the veterans who fought so hard for our fragile democracy is resoldered by this well-rehearsed, structured display, soothingly devoid of surprise or change. Even a small funeral in a country church, with its ritual of pleasingly familiar hymns and eulogies, conducted by a respectful vicar, reminds us all who we are and where we have come from. Our long line of traditions was forged by ancestors who make us who we are. Funerals and memorials ultimately uplift us. Show me an oldie who hasn’t declared that a funeral can be just as enjoyable as a wedding. In spring last year...
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