Thank you each of you for coming; thank you even more for your
affection for Margaret, an affection which as this gathering demonstrates
did not die with her. Since that affection for Margaret is personal to
each one of us, the confluence of our being together with her, of doing
things together with her, the love which each one of us has for her is
individual, personal, different and unique. That's nothing to be lamented
that's as it should be.

Margaret was a very affectionate woman who loved the world
and all its creatures, no matter how much they disconcerted her. 
On occasion the universality of her love surprised even her. 
A year or so ago, when I had occasion 
to remind her of her identity and of mine, 
when I told her you are Margaret and I am Jochen 
and we were married 63 years ago, she blurted out incredulously,
you mean I married YOU? 

Margaret was very literate in a very unpretentious way.
She enjoyed reading, but even more she liked to write.
She wrote not for publication, not that others should admire
her thoughts and feelings; she wrote because language was
real and compelling to her, and gave her thoughts and feelings
that permanence of the written word which Shakespeare praised in his sonnets.
She left me many volumes of notebooks that remind me
how she spent her life.