ON the day she was finally laid to rest the Queen still served.

As she promised on her succession seven decades earlier she would dedicate her life to the people in Great Britain and across the Commonwealth

On a cloudless day in London she could finally lay that promise to rest.

In her final day she brought us all together, a Britain which needed a moment of unity, a Commonwealth unsure of what role - if any - Britain has to play in their own nations.

And as we watched, in the crowds or on screens, the mourning ticked by every minute.

Big Ben tolled, the gun fired.

The solemnity had at first seemed strangely amiss.

Presidents and premiers all carefully placed in Westminster Abbey. No photo ops today, perhaps a brief glimpse by TV camera behind the shoulder of one of the major leaders.

No one really cared inside the Abbey or in the thousands outside. This was the Queen’s day and King Charles’ day - one he has patiently waited upon virtually his whole adult life.

The muffled commentators gave their thoughts trying to sum up every detail imaginable.

Big Ben tolled, the gun fired.

When the pipes and the snare drums first broke the silence it was as if a wall had been breached.

Pipes - the sound the Queen woke to each day at her beloved Balmoral.

They stirred the heart and let loose tears few thought they would shed at images we had almost become desensitised to.

The coffin on gun carriage, young men and women escorting her body through the streets to Westminster Abbey. Soldiers gleaming in their gold and silver uniforms, chins set to stone. Her family playing the roles the Queen herself had been instrumental in deciding on for this day.

Big Ben tolled, the gun fired.

Even on such a day there was no escaping the shadows hanging over this grieving family.

Andrew, out of uniform because the Queen herself stripped away his royal role in the wake of his ongoing troubles in his private life. Harry and Megan - where were they standing, what did the placement mean, is this a real rapprochement with William and Charles?

And Megan. Not a word nor a tweet since flying with Harry to London. Please God, it lasts, and she and Harry can join their family and live the life the Queen set to follow.

Big Ben tolled, the gun fired.

The drive took us back to the day of Diana’s death. Every yard along the route to Windsor Castle - some 60 miles from Westminster Abbey - filled with ordinary families.

If just for a few seconds they stood and watched as the hearse carrying the Queen’s body drove by, their own thoughts and prayers kept to themselves.

Then St George’s Chapel for the final goodbye to her family and those who had lived and worked with her for so many years.

Prayers and readings, music filling this ancient church eventually faded to silence.

She was gone.

Big Ben stood silent, the gun packed away, the crowds slowly drifting back to their homes.

Her time had passed.

God save The King.