It is the only tangible thing my father gave me that I still have today. In truth, the symbol itself probably lacked any deeper meaning, and he only chose it because he thought it was cool. And it was cool. It was a scorpion crafted of 14 kt gold, a pendant suspended from a long gold chain. At the time, I remember thinking it was the coolest gift I ever got. I would strut around the house wearing it, full of adolescent vanity. I never said what I was thinking, but I didn’t have to: my high nose, puffed-out chest, and exaggerated swagger proclaimed to everyone in the house that I was the most special kid in the world. When my father left, I didn’t cry. I just went into my room, calm as ever, and picked up the necklace, and carefully examined it for the first time. I turned it over, watching in fascination as the gold glinted in the light. I kept wearing the necklace, but never outside the house—I felt that in the event someone had the audacity to steal it, I might end up a convicted felon before I reached the fifth grade. Over time, as I stopped counting on my father coming back, I ceased wearing the necklace. But I still have it, and I still love it. It is the only tangible thing I have from my Dad.