This can only happen to me. It will happen to other people, but not in the way it happens to me.

Let me explain.

I am dealing with a bit of crushing news and of course my mind starts tossing the old negative football around. However, I get the sense that if I just go get the mailbox, there will be something waiting for me. Not so much as a solution to the problem but a little bit of help.

So, I take the two-second walk to the mailbox and sure enough there is a response to a question I long ago forgot I even asked. With just a few more pieces of information, a verdict will be in. I rush upstairs and start gathering the information. I press print on the letter I am writing and then I hear my Snoopy toy start playing music. No one is by the thing. Nothing accidentally rubbed up against it or hit into it. Just, out of nowhere it started playing.

I look at my cat and she is like, “dude, I was sleeping by the window. If it’s a ghost, I’m outta here.”

Now, I am not afraid of ghosts. My nephew sees them all the time and I just think if they have something to tell me then to just say it. Stop with all the laser light shows and moving shit around. Say your peace and be on with it.

But back to my ghost.

So, I do the only logical thing. I walk right up to the musical Snoopy and start inspecting it. Perhaps something did hit up against it. Maybe its battery is running out.

Or maybe it is A GHOST!

What this ghost wants, I have no idea. Maybe just the simple notion of telling me I am not alone. That maybe there is just someone who I haven’t noticed before just looking out for me.

Snoopy has always been a silent alter ego for me. He is loyal, dependable, a daydreamer, a writer, and lastly, piss him off and he will unleash I huge can of gribble garble on you. It has meaning to him even if you can’t understand what he is saying.

In a lot of ways, I have put the meaning of Snoopy away in my head. When I was growing up, I loved him and have fond memories eating the icee made from his snow cone machine. I had this toy that was a pint size Snoopy and if you pulled back his arm, he would throw a yellow ball at you. Then there was my sister’s music box. Snoopy was in his pilot gear sitting on top of his house. I have no idea what song the music box played, but I recall it being melancholic. I would sneak into her room all the time just so I could play that tune and look at Snoopy on top of his house shooting down the enemy planes only he saw in his mind.

I am a writer so I do tend to read into things. But I have other things in my house that make noise. My cat could have coughed up a hairball. I have other musical boxes that could have begun to play. The TV could have jumped on.

However, it was the Snoopy one that called out. What is it that I need to remember? What lesson from my past do I need to revisit?

Or is it simply that I should think about the dreams I had as a child when I would look at Snoopy on his red roofed dog house? Should I, like Snoopy, let the problems around me just go and shoot enemy planes in my mind? Do I need to recapture the person I always wanted to be regardless of what the world thinks I should do?