If you ever find yourself in London, skip the ticket line by accident (it happens), and end up at Westminster Abbey, just head for the Lady Chapel. Look for the black slab with the gold letters. Say “hi” to Elizabeth for me. She’s the one with the ghost of a really large dress.
And if you feel a little weird standing over her grave, remember: she’s been buried longer than your grandparents have been alive. She’s used to the attention. Plus, you’re probably not the first person to spill a latte near her resting place. Forgiveness is a royal virtue. Just don’t try to take a nap on her tomb. They frown on that.
So, next time you’re staring at a blank wall or waiting for your coffee to brew, you can confidently answer the question: “She’s under the floor in London, next to her sister, with a fancy statue above her that took forever to build.” It’s the most human ending for a queen—stuck in a crowded house, forever dealing with relatives. And honestly? That’s a legacy we can all understand.
