Twitter. Ah, you just have to love it. I fired it up, started reading through my tweets and saw an embedded video (thank you Power Twitter) to my favorite movie clip of all-time. I've put the video on this blog post for those who haven't seen it. Let me set the scene: It's from Star Wars: The Empire Strikes Back. Luke Skywalker has gone to face Darth Vader and he's not doing too well. In the clip above, Vader comes at Luke with all his anger, hatred and power. Luke is unable to hold him off and loses his hand. But worse, Luke learns the truth: Vader is his father. The anguish that Luke feels is plain (if a bit overacted) on his face. He is beaten, weakened and vulnerable. There is no darker moment for our hero.
I was 9 years old when The Empire Strikes Back came out. I saw the film with my Uncle and Mom at the Woodhaven Mall after my braces had been tightened. My teeth were in pain and I also was healing from a biking accident (ah, we boys do stupid things--I'm just lucky I didn't get majorly hurt). Up on screen my own personal history unfolded as I watched a personified devil in black armor try to kill my childhood hero. Luke, blue lightsaber in hand, was my white knight. He represented all the good that I saw in the world. You could have Han Solo. I wanted to have a lightsaber and move items with the Force.
In seeing how easy Vader defeated Luke, I couldn't see how Luke would survive, but then the action ended and Vader--the demon of pure hatred and corrupted power--revealed himself to Luke. He was Luke's father. I remember watching the film and just didn't understand. That couldn't be true. Luke was my hero. How could his father be so evil? His father was dead, wasn't he? But why would Vader lie about such a thing?
At hyperspace speed, thoughts zipped through my mind. I had seen Star Wars as a personal re-invention of my own life. The connections started to click. My own father had been a demon of great rage and destruction. At five years of age, he had abandoned my family and I. I had always envisioned him as an unstoppable force of pure rage. He had such dark power, but I stood for the light. When you're 9 years old, you can internalize your energy and see yourself as a powerful force of good. I did not understand (or see) the man, but the devil stories of what my father had done, how he had treated my mother and how this had shaped me.
Right there, on the screen, Vader hacked with a glowing red saber at Luke. My father had yelled screamed, hurt those around him with invisible tentrils of power, ripping apart our family with unspeakable deeds. Thirty-three years later I still find it difficult to say. And in my memory, I have impressions of darkness and anger. The yelling, crying and my own sense of helplessness. A force crystallized within me at that age and, at that time, it was a pure white diamond. A shield to protect me from all harm and a weapon to be used for good.
I saw Vader at the enemy--like my father. I never realized that the enemy would need to be redeemed or understood. That anger against anger would not stop him. I could no more take up my lightsaber and kill my father as Luke could. The spiritual symbolism played out in a kid's film. It was all there on the screen for me to see. Years have gone by, no, decades have gone by and my anger at my father used to burn like the heart of a sun. A son who loathed his father and wanted revenge. The power of hatred is simplistic, freeing and wrong. If I would have erased my father from my mind and confronted him with my full power, would I not have simply become like him (what I so much did not wish to be)?
That simple little Star Wars clip meant so much to me as a little boy. I look back and want to smile, knowing that the story didn't turn out as I thought it would. Vader wasn't the devil, but a man corrupted by fear. My father did wrong and hurt my family and I, but he was no demon. Flawed, unable to handle his own anger, he lashed out to hurt those around him. It's tempting to follow the dark side as it's easier and more seductive, but is it right?
My closest friends and family know of my history and can thread through the words left here. Those who don't can guess and know that a little boy grew up to see Darth Vader become more than a demon to Luke. He became real. His father. A man, flawed and hurting, who hurt his own family. But Luke, my shining knight, found a way to let go and defeat the Emperor. But for the summer of 1980, none of us knew how the story would end. We needed to wait a few years until Return of the Jedi. As for me, I needed to wait about a decade and a half to start my own path toward fatherhood. And now the circle is complete: What I learned as a young boy is not what my son is learning. The time has changed. The journey is not complete, but it's started off on the right foot. And that's good. Very, very good.
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