I miss Charlie. I miss his giggle. I miss his voice. I miss our shared affinity for the underdog, the downtrodden, the damaged. I miss digging through our Lego tub trying to find all the bad guys. I miss him calling my name. I miss watching him play with “Ippi (sippi),” and keep thinking about the last time he was here. We were cuddling on the couch watching Tangerine Bear (talk about the damaged!), and how Sippi was resting behind Charlie on the top of the couch. Sippi sniffed Charlie’s little fuzzy head, and very gingerly started licking his head, and the back of his neck. Charlie giggled. I giggled. I miss him commanding me to go and find the “grumpy cat,” and “aboo (laboo).” I miss his humor. I miss the way he would crack up at my immature antics, namely my burps. I miss the way he would reassure me (when I acted scared about a bad guy), that “they not real Shani.” I miss his grubby little hands. I am mad. I cherish my friendship with Charlie. It was easy, pure, loving, silly and yet serious at times, and authentic. Xoxox Shannon