I don’t remember your face or your smile. I don’t remember the warmth of your skin or the touch of your kiss. I don’t remember you at all. I've heard the stories my brothers and dad tell about you, stories about a beautiful woman with long blonde hair and a glowing smile. Of how you were kind, gentle and loving. Always ready with a hug or a smile and there ready to help on a project or with someone’s homework. These are t...