sometimes i think about the parents
the parents from coruscant to the farthest reaches of the galaxy, who have just become new parents, or perhaps are welcoming their third or fourth
it’s subtle at first, so subtle it’s easy to miss
maybe they’re worried. ‘what’s wrong with my baby? will they be ok? are they sick? they don’t cry like my others, doctor.’
maybe they’re amazed. ‘he has such a way with animals. she always seems to know when it will rain. what amazing reflexes! i’ve never seen a child with such a green thumb!’
it only becomes more apparent as time passes. seasons change, children grow, people talk, and the reality that their beloved child has been gifted with something beyond their comprehension becomes a reality that can no longer be ignored
and then, one day, the jedi arrives
they arrive on the doorsteps of homes both humble and opulent, armed with a soothing demeanor, a benign smile, and an explanation that simultaneously relieves and terrifies
sometimes i think about the horrid realization that, despite a willingness to lay down their own life for their child, despite their attempts to provide to the best of their ability, it is not enough. it never will be
sometimes i think of the tearful goodbyes - goodbyes that are not made any less painful with the knowledge that their decision is in the best interest of their baby
‘will they remember me?’ a parent wonders as they gaze with blurry eyes at the retreating form of the jedi, who carries away their entire world, swaddled in fabric that still smells of home. ‘will they remember my lullabies? my voice? will they remember how loved they were?’
years pass. the absence is a gaping wound that never truly heals. they follow the news, daily, scouring titles and clips for information- hoping to catch a glimpse or the smallest assurance that their child is well, growing, prospering
and then, one day, the news stops. everything changes, and nothing could ever prepare them for what follows
governments fall, an empire rises, and parents across the galaxy are rendered immobile, breathless, and shattered at the uttering of one simple sentence:
sometimes i think about the parents.
