Last night I slept soundly and without interruption. This unusual event I attribute to two things:First, I finished finished, as in all revisions completed finished, a novel I have been working on for seven years. Many times previously, I thought I had finished, and then I’d find a crusty, nasty mess on page 52 and spend weeks trying to sort it out. Now the book feels smooth, easy to leaf through, easy to read. Well-written prose as sleep aid. Who knew?
Second, my husband has discovered that I come from royal blood. While this is no surprise to me, it is nice to have the obvious confirmed: I am queen material. Hereafter, all moments of madness, peevishness and obstinacy can now be rightfully attributed to my sang royale. Being related to Charles the V, aka The Holy Roman Emperor, has got to come with some perks, after all!
Family resemblance? Let’s see, Charlie loved horses, and so do I, as did my father before me. Charles drank moderately, but couldn’t resist rich food. Check for both my father and I. He wasn’t one to try to change countries he was given to rule, preferring to focus his efforts on improving what was already in place. Yah, I don’t believe in changing the people around me—too frustrating for all concerned. Charles tried to keep his lunatic world explorers (Cortez among them) from killing all the natives by establishing royally sanctioned, native artisan colonies. That sounds like something my dad, Carlos, would have done. Charles issued the Edict of Worms, a virtual fatwa against Martin Luther giving anyone who found ML the right to dispose of him and take half his stuff. Well, nobody’s perfect. He was king, after all. I once threw my shoe at a total stranger because I was angry with someone else. Finally, and this is a trait I share with my dad, Charles knew when to quit. He abdicated and retired to spend his remaining days gardening at the foot of a monastery. My dad was also an avid gardener, preferring the prayer of compost and worms and rain to the strictures of Holy Mass. He also knew when the fight was over.
Dad, I hope you’re resting in as much peace as I did last night. You abdicated this life 24 years ago when I was 24, but you ought to know a part of you has been chugging along quite strong ever since. You’ve been there during the depression and divorce, and at the birth of your grandchildren. I see you in their bright faces and in my own resolute character. Whether or not we’re actually related to royalty, there is no doubt in my mind that I am the daughter of a king.
