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We had to say our goodbyes to Eve today.
I don't have many words at the moment, but this poem was read at her memorial, and I think it bears repeating here:

We may look through books for the perfect words
To give form to our feelings, make the thing complete,
Set the matter at rest.

But in the hours of searching, each piece lies rejected:
Too precise, too difficult – too harsh, not relevant,
Implying what we do not wish.

But look into the grey wide sky, and the thoughts will come like this,

Remember me when I loved you most – and you loved me most.
Remember me when I was my bravest – and when I did you right.

Then let that be our secret bond,
And just once let us rise in the morning and enjoy the light,
And know that the bird in the mist is returning to the sun.

- David Lott