I miss seeing your big hands. I miss cutting your hair. I miss seeing the way you walked through the house with heavy footsteps, taking long strides as you went. I miss your deep, quiet voice. I miss seeing you sit in the exact middle of the couch, in the crack of the cushions with Miss Toshiba on your lap. I miss seeing that rare smirk. I miss seeing you sitting behind the sound board at church. I miss hearing the cereal cupboard door opening at 10:30pm each night. I miss hearing you chuckle as you watched "The Office" and "Everybody Loves Raymond." I miss seeing your dark brown eyes, those "chocolate Hershey kisses" of yours. I miss you.