���Our memory is a more perfect world than the universe: it gives back life to those who no longer exist.���

~ Guy de Maupassant

I have a picture of you from 1971.

You are dressed in a white sleeveless top and matching white stockings kneeling next to a tree. Nestled in your arms is a small, white bundle with a tuft of dark hair. Your face is turned down, but not so much that your proud, slight smile is hidden.

That bundle was me. Just shy of 46 years later, my siblings and I held your hand...