when i was young, my greatgrandmother gave me a stuffed leopard. my greatgrandmother was an amazing woman, a very influential force who raised my mother, a woman who took care of me in my first few years. she died when my brother was in womb, and my mom wasn't able to go to taiwan for the funeral because she couldn't travel in her last trimester, and that has been a great source of guilt and hurt inside her.

i loved this leopard like you wouldn't believe, sleeping with it, chewing its ear. his tail fell off and they had to sew it back on for me. it sat on a shelf in my room as i grew up, even through college.

my parents moved out of their house in may for a year while the house gets renovated. i remember looking for my leopard, which had always been on the shelf, but my brother had taken over my room the last few years. no one could find it. i worry that they threw him out or donated him with all the other old toys to goodwill.

that would be sad, because goodwill would have thrown him away. he was too raggedy to sell or give away. he would have never meant anything to someone as much as he meant to me.

i still miss him. the way he felt in my arms, against my cheek. the way he smelled. he is symbolic of a time, of an innocence, of an unconditional love from a very kind person.

i still hold out hope that maybe he'll show up one day when i least expect it.