I still remember how I met Snoopy.
It was one afternoon in Hong Kong, I was around 4 years old. Back in the days, the end of my bed had this inset in the wall; that was where I put all my stuffed toys. I was a little upset that my parents took my security blanket away, my salmon colour blanket with some faded out Chinese writing on one of its corner. I felt that they took it away because it was too immature for me to carry a blanket around all the time. I thought to myself, a stuffed toy will be more grown up, they have shapes and they will be easier for them to understand why I like it. So I climbed up my bed, lift away this cushion that was blocking the inset in the wall, and there it was, a white Snoopy stuffed toy sitting in front of me. I didn't know how it got there or who gave it to me, but I didn't care, I grabbed it and started carrying it around. "He will be my new friend", I said to myself.
For the longest time, Snoopy was my only true friend. My parents weren't home a lot, they left for work very early and came home when I was already in bed. Snoopy kept me entertained. I'll throw him up in the air because I wasn't allowed to jump indoor, but Snoopy can, like he was in his Red Baron and go on his crazy adventures. There were many times I threw it too hard and he went straight out the window from our 19th floor condo. I cried and begged my Grandma to fetch it for me. Snoopy always came back. Although one time, he came back looking a bit cleaner and newer, but they told me he just needed a special bath because he was out for too long.
Snoopy never really left my side even after I grew up. Eventually, after years of being tossed around, stained on and drooled over, he was no longer really recognizable as a "Snoopy". Its nose was missing, had countless repair scars, significantly shrunked in size; but still, even I had countless other "Snoopy" stuffed toys, Snoopy was always neatly placed on my pillow every day before I go to school. That spot was always reserved for my true pal.
Mom jokingly said I will have to date someone who can tolerate having a dirty old stuffed toy on the bed. I remember telling my Mom I will find someone who doesn't care. And I kept my promise. Snoopy remained on my bed even after I started dating. It wasn't until many breakups and many moves later I finally decided not to open that box he was in. It was time for him to rest, he had been through a lot with me, I don't want him to go inside and outside of the box anymore.
The day when Mr. Charles M. Schulz died, I was very upset. I remember it wasn't long ago that he published his last daily strip, 13 years ago today.
I was waiting for his last Sunday strip to be published. It was as if Mr. Schulz couldn't bear to say goodbye to his old friends, he died the night, just hours before the final strip was published.
Like many of the long term regrets of the Peanuts characters: Charlie Brown never successfully kicked that football Lucy held; Linus never got to see the Great Pumpkin; Lucy never kissed Schroeder; the little red headed girl never returned her love to Charlie Brown; Snoopy never won the war with World War II (the cat next door). Mr. Schulz never get to see his final comic strip published.
When I was at Chicago last December, my friend @partlyaskew found out that the Charlie Brown and the Great Exhibit was hosting at the Museum of Science and Industry. He was great enough to treat me to the exhibit.
It was nice to see all my old friends. Every corner and every display was magical. For me, it was like revisiting a past that I've forgotten, a much more innocent version of me that hasn't been weathered or discouraged. It was theurapeutic.
Today, I remember a very old friend of mine. One that I'd like to invite when I finally have a place I can call home again. Until then, he will remain in a very special place in my heart. Until the box be opened once more.
