I was glad we went to the service on Thursday.  It was a very hot summers day. And all very simple & dignified.  Music. Not a word spoken. We sat there, before the open doors that lead into the garden.  Flowers & strollers which Roger would have liked.  He lay under an old brocade with two bunches of very bright many coloured flowers.  It is a strong instinct to be with ones friends.  I thought of him too, at intervals.  Dignified & honest & large - "large sweet soul" - something ripe & musical about him - & then the fun & the fact that he lived with such variety & generosity & curiosity...They played Bach.  Then then coffin moved slowly through the doors. They shut.  They played again - Anon, I think: old music.  Yes I liked the wordlessness.