In memory of Posh. We miss you in a hundred thousand ways
(LA Times NBA)

She used to buy me eggnog; I never had to ask. It´d show up in the fridge this time of year, I´d drink about half, and in mid-January she´d finally shrug and throw the rest away. In a hundred thousand ways like that, we will miss her. My wife was as lovely as a jar of honey. We would be together...