Your best friend of 25 years, Jordan, died last week in a climbing accident — a fall, clean, fast, in a place he had climbed dozens of times. He was 46. He leaves a wife, Nora, and two kids (7 and 10). He lived for climbing — it was not peripheral to his life, it was central. You are not Nora. You are his best friend. You are speaking at the funeral. Write the eulogy. 250-350 words. Do not speak for Nora or the kids. Just the eulogy itself, no preamble.