For some Australians, the monarch’s death felt like losing a grandmother. For others, it barely registered as they went about their day
For some Australians, the death of Queen Elizabeth II felt like losing a grandmother. Others were distraught, or philosophical. As many reflected upon a life spanning 96 years, some were focused firmly on the future.
Others couldn’t care less.
As Australians awoke to news that the woman who had been their head of state for as long as most could remember was dead, the mood was as diverse as its 25 or so million inhabitants.
Loyal monarchists turned out to lay flowers and publicly express their grief and gratitude. Even the cool spring rain could not hide the tears falling down Bruce Hemsworth’s face as he touched the feet of a statue of Queen Elizabeth II in Brisbane.
“She will always be my Queen,” the 43-year-old Ipswich chef told gathered media.
In Sydney, Eric Third was among those to head to Government House to sign a book of condolences.
“It’s like a grandmother’s died,” Third said. “She’s part of us, part of everyone.”
This sentiment was shared by many.
Among the endless talk of Elizabeth, in cafes and on street corners, there was also a sharp focus on her eldest son. What kind of king would Charles make? Was it safe yet to mention the “r” word?
Some discussed hard-headed implications. What would happen to the money in our wallets, coins and notes that bore her face? How long before we went through this all over again? Sipping morning coffees at a cafe table in Brisbane before heading into their jobs in marketing, engineering and logistics, respectively, were Gina, 26, Hannah, 31, and Tahlia 33.
King Charles III, Gina pointed out, may only have “25 years left”.
“And they have to go through the whole coronation process, spend all that money, change all the emblems everywhere – and then in 25 years, do it again,” she said.
“It kinda just seems like a waste of money, really.”
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But for all the wall-to-wall media coverage and hot takes on the socials, many went about their days without giving it a second thought. Electricians Dan, 43, and Peter, 40, were wolfing down pastries in Fortitude Valley before heading to their next job. What did Dan think?
“Not much,” he said. “I’m Italian.”
Peter, “an Aussie”, didn’t care either. What difference does a symbolic head of state make anyway?
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While the media were full of staunch monarchists and republicans, many Australians had far less defined political views.
And for many of them, the close of the second Elizabethan era would take some getting used to.
“[It’s] weird,” Kirsten Sinclair said as she walked her two dalmatians and her husband, Geoff. “I’m 57 years old, and she’s all I’ve ever known.”
For her admirers, what defined Elizabeth’s reign was unwavering commitment to duty.
They felt she wasn’t a snob, as some viewed her progeny. For every day of her 70-year-reign, Elizabeth turned up, held her emotions in check and did what was expected of her. She was pleasant and predictable. She was there to condole with us in times of disaster and congratulate our triumphs. She sent us letters when we reached milestones.
“She worked hard every day – I don’t think the young ones will do this,” Maya in Melbourne’s bustling Flinders St Station said. “It’s a different kind of work ethic.”
Her longevity and aura has certainly created a large vacuum to fill.
“Unfortunately, I don’t think anybody in the royal family at the moment can do anything like [Elizabeth],” Greg, in Sydney, said.
“Now we’ll probably become a republic, oh god!”