Ah…Han, what’s not to love? The original “Space Pirate” and the smoothest scoundrel to ever skirt-by the Maw black hole cluster, making the Kessel Run in less than twelve parsecs. Yeah, it doesn’t get much better than that. Oh, let’s not forget his awesome ride, the Millennium Falcon. Sure, it dates back to the decades before the Clone Wars and the rise of the Empire, but she is (was?) the fastest hunk of junk in the galaxy! Of course, this so called mantel is yet to be determined with the Ghost ship so close on the horizon. Quite possibly, the Falcon might just meet her match, but that’s a topic for another day. Move along, move along …
“Kid, I’ve flown from one side of this galaxy to the other. I’ve seen a lot of strange stuff, but I’ve never seen anything to make me believe there’s one all-powerful force controlling everything. There’s no mystical energy field that controls my destiny.”-Han Solo (ANH)
“The Scoundrel”-by Steve Anderson
What an interesting perspective on life or a generalization of such. Still the man has skill, a genuine knack for storytelling, a talent to schmooze his audience. Much like that of my own father, in fact, his handle (the old radio waves, before cell phones, better known as “C B radio”) was “The Storyteller.” My Dad, ‘til this very day, can talk his way out of almost every jam he gets himself into.
This is truly a craft that cannot be taught, it’s inborn. Han had his moments, yes, not many of them, but he had them. Even if the story can’t fix the entire problem or sticky situation, there’s always the next best thing, the power of stalling. Anyone wanna take a guess at how many times Han successfully stalled the Imperials while in a crunch? Roughly around … 725 to 1. I know, never tell me the odds.
Getting back to my Dad, by the way, his name is Jim. He’s quite the character; charming, charismatic, animated, generous, and deep down, he is sweet. And up until recently, I really never noticed how much he reminded me of the dashing, yet arrogant, Corellian smuggler. Sometimes the stars don’t align as quickly as we’d like, sometimes, it takes many moons to reveal the connection. As they say, good things come to those who wait.
So my moment of awakening, truth be told, wasn’t under the best of circumstances. A few days after my birthday, I was sitting in the kitchen with one of my daughters and my phone rings. As I answer it, my Mom casually says, “Dad’s in the hospital.” Ok, let me pause here. You see, my Dad doesn’t just go to the hospital, it’s not his character. No sir. Eight years ago, (approximately) my Dad suffered a heart attack and he literally D R O V E himself to the hospital, but not before dropping my Mom off at work. Yeah, who’s the more foolish now? He’s so lucky I love him and yes, I jest.
Needless to say, we made our way to the hospital. Yes, my number two child (both literally and figuratively speaking. Megen is my second born and her softball uniform bears tribute to Yankee ball player, Derek Jeter #2) felt compelled to keep me company. Once reaching our destination, (cell block 22, umm … E.R. room #22) I instructed my child to peek her cute little face inside before storming in myself.
Seeing his granddaughter peer around the curtain, seemed to lift his spirits as he flashed his usual crooked, chirpy grin and responded with, “I’m fine. Everything’s fine. How are you?” That was my “Ah ha!” moment. All the displaced pieces of my own personal, missing holocron just came together and united the galaxy.
That’s how it felt, BAM! It was as if I had heard, “We’re fine. We’re all fine here now, thank you. How are you?” All I could do was go to my Daddy’s bedside, wrap my arms around his shoulders, kiss his cheek, and say, “I love you.” He just continued to smile (casually, as if we were visiting over coffee or something) looking straight ahead at my daughter. Of course, he felt we were wasting our time and shouldn’t have made so much trouble over him. Anyways, Mr. and Mrs. Solo (my parents) are home and doing well.
Since then, I’ve had some time to collect my thoughts and connect the dots between the two (my Dad and Han). As I reminisced over my parents stories of how they met, I realized my Dad chased my Mom just as persistently as Han pursued Leia. When they first met, my Mom couldn’t stand him. She says he was crude, stuck-up, and had a dirty mouth (that cracks me up to this day). One time, she poured hot chocolate on his lap because he told her a naughty joke. My Mom prides herself by saying, “I was a good girl and I wasn’t gonna take that crap.” Thank the Maker my Daddy never gave up the chase and stayed on target. Honestly, they’re really the best couple ever and I cherish them whole heartedly.
[My parents, circa 1970’s]
“Love, like a flame is alive and it breathes.”-Becca Benjamin
*I dedicate this blog to my Dad. You’ll always be my Hero, my Rock, and my Han Solo. I love you, Dad … Always and forever, your little 7/7 (Highball).*
As always, feel free to comment or contact me at firstname.lastname@example.org
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