On Jan. 10, Bob Weir died at the age of 78. The original member of the Grateful Dead had tirelessly carried on the band's music for three decades, and on Saturday, the City of San Francisco said goodbye in a public memorial called The Homecoming.

"Would you like a rose?" Nanette Chauvel flew in from Seattle to hand out roses.  

Weir's family asked that 101,000 roses be given out at the gathering. They asked the "Wharf Rats" to do it. That's a group of formerly addicted, now sober, Grateful Dead fans.

"You know, we all went through our struggles and so we're all on the same page," said Chauvel. "And to ask us, of all people, to pass out the roses is really, we all feel really honored. Brought tears to our eyes, goosebumps, you know."

For a band with millions of fans and a worldwide reach, the Grateful Dead never lost its sense of family. That was on full display in San Francisco's Civic Plaza as thousands arrived to pay tribute to the former leader of the band.

"This is amazing," said fan Rick Waldinger. "Good and sad. It's the end of an era. It's been a long, strange trip."

The trip has certainly been long for Patrick Kennedy. He first saw the largely unknown band perform in 1967. It happened mostly by accident.

"I was on a blind double date, and so we went to Fisherman's Wharf. And we heard playing at the Longshoreman's Hall," Kennedy said. "So, my relationship with the Grateful Dead lasted a lot longer than the blind date."

"Bob Weir's story will always, always, always be connected to San Francisco," Mayor Daniel Lurie told the crowd.  "The city where his music took shape and where he always returned, as he does today.  He gave us music that reminded us that we belong to one another.  And that gift will endure long after the final note ends.  Thank you, Bob."

What was it about the music that was at once distinctive but also hard to define?  It wasn't hard rock or folk, but it combined elements of both.  A man named Randolph, who worked concert security for famed promoter Bill Graham, explained the phenomenon.

"Nobody could do it like the Dead," he said.  "And Bill Graham said it, 15 nights at the Warfield, out on the marquee, 'The Grateful Dead aren't the best at what they do. They're the only ones that do what they do.'"

Saturday's tribute was eclectic with appearances, both live and on video, from politicians like Nancy Pelosi, to musical superstars like Joan Baez and Willie Nelson, to a group of chanting Buddhist monks.  But the sadness of loss was best expressed by musician John Mayer, who toured with Weir in later years and considered him a mentor.

"And after all we'd shared together, something new has risen.  A sadness so hard to put into words, and nowhere near being fully realized," said Mayer.  "We've only begun to make sense of what's gone missing.  And in the end, Bobby was right again, because all we can do is hold onto this moment.  And I don't have the faintest idea of a plan."

Weir's daughters also appeared on stage, saying their father worked tirelessly until the end, but his work was always going to feel unfinished because "the fans and community are the ingredients needed to finish it with him."  Most Dead fans see Weir's passing as the end of an era.  But the music will live on, inspiring others to create something new.  Just as a rose's beauty is short-lived, it's always followed by new blossoms in the spring.