"every grain of sand. Joan Baez sang the mournful yet uplifting spiritual, "Swing Low, Sweet Chariot." Each member of the family recounted a few stories or read a poem. "His mind was never a captive of reality," Laurene said. "He possessed an epic sense of possibility. He looked at things from the standpoint of perfection." Mona Simpson, as befitting a novelist, had a finely crafted eulogy. "He was an intensely emotional man," she recalled. "Even ill, his taste, his discrimination, and his judgment held. He went through sixty-seven nurses before finding kindred spirits." She spoke of her brother's love of work and noted that "even in the last year, he embarked upon projects and elicited promises from his friends at Apple to finish them." She also, more personally, stressed his love of Laurene and all four of his children. Although he had achieved his wish of living to see Reed's graduation, he would not see his daughters' weddings. "He'd wanted to walk them down the aisle as he'd walked me the day of my wedding," she said. Those chapters would not be written. "We all--in the end--die in medias res. In the middle of a story. Of many stories." The corporate memorial on the Apple campus was held three days later. Tim Cook, Al Gore, and Bill Campbell all spoke, but Jony Ive stole the show with a tribute both amusing and emotional. He told the story, as he had at the Stanford memorial, of Jobs being so finicky that whenever they checked into a hotel Ive would sit by the phone waiting for the inevitable call from him saying, "This hotel sucks, let's go." But Ive also captured the scattershot brilliance at the core of Jobs's genius when he described his boss tossing out ideas at a meeting. "Sometimes they were dopey. Sometimes"