The ending to 'Dear Mr. Watterson' missed the mark on his last comic, so here's my interpretation of 'Let’s Go Exploring!'

The “let’s” in "Let's go exploring" is yes, Calvin and Hobbes in the story, but really it’s meant to be the readers and the comics Calvin and Hobbes.

Together, the reader will use the lessons that Bill Watterson has taught us through his comics. Leaving the page and going forward in life is the next step, and Bill was enthusiastic and passionate about that. So passionate that he left it up to the rest of us to make our own ‘Hobbes(es)’ and our own renditions of his characters, the reason behind his lack of licencing. Hence the blank white snow and clean slate of a new year, like the canvas was to him, life is our canvas. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to brand and market his characters. He put his all into making his characters in his comics perfect (even in their flaws). They were exactly how he wanted them, and they were just that: beautifully crafted characters from a comic. So while being "just" comics, all of his works were produced to his ridiculously high, perfectionist standards--to the point of being better than the sum of just their parts. He knew it would influence us heavily. He wanted it to influence us, that was his way of ‘filling in the blank canvas’ both literally and metaphorically. His passion, work, and life were to teach kids about life with humor and sincerity. And he succeeded to an incredible extent. But he also wanted us to grow up, move on from the words and pictures on the page and move forward with the deeper meaning. Put the pen to paper; action to the thoughts. He wanted us to take the characters that he gave us, the life lessons, their great qualities, etc. and become our own versions of those characters. Be the imaginative Calvin, with lust for life and an appreciation for the weird –but in the way that suited you. Be a loyal best friend to someone, like Hobbes was to Calvin for so long. Read the comics later and develop those deep thoughts on meaningfulness and life.

But he didn’t want to force anyone to play with HIS toy tiger. Or make them buy HIS lunchbox. He just wanted people to have a lunchbox they ate weird foods out of. He wanted his readers to make tracks in the freshly fallen snow. The snow covering in clean white, but still taking the form of the world that came before it: his world.