I found him tonight, buried in a storage bin, and I had to hold the tears back as I hugged him for the first time in over a decade.

I’ve known him since the beginning.

Brown, soft, and furry, he was always my favorite.

I named him Morky.

At first glance, he just looks well-loved. But he holds pieces of my life…so many of them.

He wears a gray sweatshirt…it hides the scars of the multiple surgeries he has had over the years. Poor Morky has been sewn and stitched back together more than most who have been around for 34+ years.

His sweatshirt also bears a panda patch, the only thing that remains of my beloved baby blanket, Smoky. When Smoky was on his last threads, my mom found a way to preserve a little piece of him.

And, he holds my tears, too. He held them, for sure, the day my friend died. He still had a special spot in my heart and in my life during my teenage years, and he held the tears for me the day I watched my daddy leave, too.

Maybe it’s silly to hang onto something…and yet, he is more than just that. Morky is a piece of who I am.

And maybe it’s just as silly…taking the time to remember…but finding him tonight made my day. :)



  1. I think your Morky and my Vexie could become good friends :)

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