Margeret Thatcher is dead. I quickly logged onto Twitter, and logged off again. Same for Facebook.
I will say here, and you probably won't be surprised, that I loathed her, her policies, and her legacy. I loathe those that are following her now, implementing more disgusting policies and once again pitting the rich against the poor.
But I can't say that I am glad she is dead, and won't join those that are talking about dancing on her grave.
Because whatever you may think of her, and like all PMs you may love or loathe her, she was a friend, mum, and grandmother, and there are many people who should be allowed to mourn her.
Those of us who disliked her should stand back and let her be mourned and rest in peace. I am not saying that history should be rewritten to blot out what she did wrong, but jubilation at an old woman's death is distasteful and hysterical.
Lessons can be learned from what she did, and no-one can deny her achievements and policies had a huge impact on British politics, for better or for worse.
But this is not the time for jokes and snide comments, rather a time for reflection.