My son Jaran called to tell me about going through Jolene's things his father had brought back from his recent trip through Colorado. He explained they had allowed the girls to choose one stuffed animal each.
"You'll never believe which one Shannon chose to keep." Jaran paused for dramatic effect. He was a drama major in high school.
"What was that?" Jolene had a lot of beautiful things.
Snoopy. Oh, the memories.
Snoopy is a larger-than-life sized dog (yes, he looks like Peanuts' Snoopy) that has been in our family for 18 years.
How well I remember the day. We held a garage sale before we moved from Oklahoma to Colorado. The goal was to reduce the amount of things we needed to move.
Jaran, age ten at the time, proudly took the quarter he earned, went to another garage sale and came back with--you guessed it--Snoopy. For Jolene.
I was irritated. The gigantic stuffed dog didn't fit into my plans for reducing the move.
But Snoopy joined our family, and she loved him. He followed Jolene when she moved out on her own. By now, the stuffing in his neck has shifted and his head droops. He's well loved and worn, reminiscent of the Velveteen Rabbit.
This July, Snoopy returned to Oklahoma.
And without any knowledge of the history, nine-year-old Shannon chose to keep Snoopy.
The legend lives. Jolene's legacy continues on this, the eighth month anniversary of her death.