I was six when the first Star Wars movie was released. No one was quite aware then of the impact this movie would have, or the phenomenon it would become. The next few years created a following of loyal fans, which grew along with the movie franchise. They purchased action figures and dressed up in costumes, and sought out memorabilia.
After the saga ended, the fans kept the memories alive with conventions, websites and magazines. To be honest, as I grew up I forgot about Star Wars. I lost my Princess Leia action figure, and became too old to wear my hair in matching buns. It was the discovery of Timothy Zahn’s book trilogy, and the re-release of the original trilogy which excited my six year old son, that renewed my own love of the original series.
It became a family affair. I read books, my son collected action figures which he (sometimes) shared with his little sister, and my husband played video games. We saw the prequel movies together, and shared our interest. (My daughter was just finally old enough to appreciate Star Wars when Padme came along.) There were lightsaber battles which endangered the furniture, and Halloween costumes that were worn around the house for everyday play.
My kids grew up, but their love of Star Wars and the genre stayed with them. For this reason in part, I found myself in line this weekend to see a new addition to the saga-a part envisioned by George Lucas years before though he sold the rights to make it.
We went as a family to see The Force Awakens, decked out in brand new Star Wars tee-shirts. The world had changed, but at the same time so much was so familiar. Our favorite characters filled the screen once more, and we laughed and cried and cheered. We knew, this time, this was only the first part of a trilogy, and we will eagerly await each new piece of the story.
Our mutual love for the saga gives us common ground, and an excuse to spend time together. That’s saying something for a family with kids in their twenties, that they still are willing to sometimes hang with mom and dad.