The Saga Will End. The Story Lives Forever
(I wrote this December 18. I’ve been struggling with whether or not to publish it because it’s pretty personal, but my love of Star Wars overrides my fear of exposure. Please be nice…)
The Skywalker saga ends tomorrow.
…And I have so many feelings.
This story is almost as old as I am and has been a part of me for as long as I can remember. I don’t remember a time before Star Wars. I’ve always known these characters and these worlds. They’ve always guided me and informed me. I am the person I am today because of words spoken and actions taken by these characters. I am the person I am today because of the real people who have come into my life through Star Wars.
When I was six years old my cousin took me to see Empire Strikes Back. She was beautiful, college-aged, had a sports car and an amazing shoe collection and cheekbones that could cut glass. She took me out for the day in her college town, first to an arcade where we played video games and talked to boys, and then to the movies. She’d already seen the movie but she was so excited to see it again! She talked about it all day to everyone we met, and they were all excited for us to see it too! My cousin was the coolest girl 6-year-old me knew, and she taught me that Star Wars and video games were things that cool girls liked. I never questioned that fact.
When I was nine years old my aunt took me to see Return of the Jedi. It was the day after opening, and the line wrapped around the theater. We had so much fun waiting with the other fans. Everyone was so excited to see it! My aunt was the baddest bossbitch I knew, and she held that title for decades after. Her enthusiasm for Star Wars, and for sci-fi/fantasy in general, was always infectious. She kept me reading and risk-taking and standing up for what is right.
I met my best friend in 7th grade. She loved Star Trek as much as I loved Star Wars and we would talk endlessly about both franchises. We joined our junior high’s Sci-Fi Book Club together. We skipped school to see the premier of Star Trek 4 together. We drove around town blasting the Star Wars soundtrack together. We went to parties and met boys and went to Halloweens in New Orleans and DragonCons in Atlanta together. She was at my mom’s funeral. I was at her dad’s. Because we’ve always been family. She told me once, somewhat recently, that she knew she liked me when we first met because of how much I liked Star Wars. Until then she had never met anybody who liked anything as much as she liked Star Trek. 30+ years later and we’re still best friends.
I took a writing class in college where we spent the whole semester writing a series of autobiographical essays. All of mine centered around Luke Skywalker, drawing parallels between our upbringing, our relationships to our legal guardians, our need for reconciliation with our fathers, our finding belonging in the least expected places, our journey to be greater than our situation seemed to allow. As Luke and I have grown, I still find myself comparing my life to his. He will always be a mirror.
And as much as I know I’m Luke, I’ve spent my whole life trying to be Han. Han is my favorite character. Not just in Star Wars, but in all of storytelling. His cool swagger, his wanderlust, his self-sufficiency, his no-nonsense attitude, his practicality, pragmatism, and skepticism, his absolute dedication to the select few who have earned it, his DIY spirit, his driving skills. I didn’t have a father, but I had Han Solo to guide me through life. Han’s death gutted me in ways that my own fathers’ (both adopted and biological) deaths did not.
I never felt a strong connection to Leia like I did to Han and Luke. She was awesome and I love her, don’t get me wrong, she just didn’t connect with me in the same way. Carrie Fisher, on the other hand, was an amazing role model. She had her struggles, but she always met them head-on. She spoke about them openly and with brutal and hilarious honesty. She gave zero fucks. She was so fearless. She is a daily inspiration for navigating life as a human, a woman, a woman starting to age, and a functioning crazy person.
I have less to say about the prequels and the Clone Wars, other than I love them and I’m glad that Star Wars has never left the public eye. The prequel-era didn’t have the same impact on me that the original trilogy had, but I have re-watched them countless times and I appreciate how they expanded on the universe and the history of the characters I love.
And I love the sequels, and Solo (and Rebels, Rogue One, and the Mandalorian too, but they’re not quite relevant to this train of thought). It’s so fulfilling to see these characters, who I’ve spent my whole life with, have a future (and in Han’s case, also a past) on screen. These movies have been a gift to 9 year old, Official Star Wars Fan Club card-carrying me.
What I’ve listed here are just a few examples of how much Star Wars matters to me. When I say I love Star Wars, what I mean is that Star Wars is the story of my life. It has defined and informed my life in ways no other single thing ever has. Star Wars has given me role models and life lessons, defined my morals and values, shaped my opinions on religion and government, brought me clarity about my own family history and childhood, given me goals and aspirations, given me a sense of adventure, given me inspiration and an outlet for my creativity, given me lifelong friendships, and given me hope in times of darkness.
And now, here we are. One day before The Rise of Skywalker. One day before the Skywalker saga comes to an end. One day until they close the book on a story that has been told for my whole life. I’m equal parts grateful for the closure and heartbroken that it’s over. And of course I know it’s not really over. There are still infinite amounts of stories to tell in that universe, but the nine movies I was promised so long ago in those old issues of Bantha Tracks and Starlog have finally been delivered, and I can’t wait to see how it ends!
Thank you, Star Wars, for everything.
