It's a place not many like to visit because of the feeling it gives. The feeling I so often learn to forget, until I am face to face with the tomb of the one I miss the most. The sky appears to be dark; even when the sun is shining and the birds are chirping, I only feel the darkness that lingers around me. I walk down several paths with suspense of what is going to strike my mind when I am reminded of the absence of him. I hear the cars passing by, but my thoughts are much louder than the noise of the cars, the birds, or the sound of the leaves crumbling beneath me as I lay beside him. But he is much farther down. He is 6 feet under, yet I can still hear the sound of his voice on my 9th birthday replaying over and over inside my head saying, "Mya happy birthday baby, I love you very much." As I stare at the steelers sign that is carved into the stone beside me, I closely hold onto the necklace he gave to me as the tears start to fall down my face and onto the nearly cut grass. The grass reeks of the Earth being alive, healthy, and well- unlike the curse of cancer that left my father weak.  My mouth goes dry, but I can almost taste the air that leaves me with a lump in my throat. It taste like sadness, but the feeling is much more power when the thought of those around me try comforting me, that is until I realize that I am alone. I can smell the flowers that lay all around, and for a few seconds I remember the rose bush that sat right in front of his front porch. The same front porch I left a bright red nail polish stain on, and in that moment I can smell it and hear his voice yelling, but it only becomes comforting. Everything hits me at once as I try chocking out some words, and I speak of my life and how deeply I wish he were here. As I slowly walk away from the tomb he was buried under almost 7 years ago, I whisper one last thing. "I love you to the stars and back, but I think I miss you more."