Every morning began with Roz getting her mother up, dressed and in a wheelchair, then going off to teach classes, grade papers and write for the newspaper.

Roz had a great gift for joy and a capacity to bring other people into it.

I remember on that occasion, Roz invited a group of friends to gather around a festive table for a meal, with flowers, wine bottle and a portrait of Edith as the centerpiece.

If we were to follow the format of Edith's memorial service, we would be here until next Wednesday.

As the evening progressed, we had to change the pace.