He had my hands in shape and form, but they were large and strong. I loved his hands. I held them for as long as they allowed that last day. I transformed the picture into the sketch, because I seemed to make the reality of the photo more subtle. He bit his fingernails; something I don't do, but it was an identifying character. He was left handed, but strummed the guitar with his right hand. The right fingers were marred with gentle callouses and wear from the love of the guitar strings. He had a finger infection last summer, so there was a faint, pink scar on his left index finger from the cuticle to the top of his hand. There was a small, healing scrape on hand that day, and ironically it was heart shaped! You can see the shape of you look closely. I had my fingerprint charm made from the impression of that left index finger. I still have the hand prints he made for Mothers Day when he was just four years old. I loved his hands and would give anything to touch them again.