Please do not read this if you have not seen The Force Awakens… and care.
“Mom, are you okay?”
As we walked out of The Force Awakens, my thirteen year old teased, grinning slyly. “About Han Solo?”
I am not a Star Wars fanatic, but my boys have heard how traumatized I was 35 years ago when Han Solo was frozen in carbonite by Darth Vader. I left The Empire Strikes Back in 1980 feeling sick to my stomach. I anxiously awaited the next movie only to confirm that Han Solo would survive.
The reluctant hero with a sense of humor. The good-looking loner who learns the power of friendship. Nothing new, certainly, but I like a good coming of age story.
I was glad to see him again, although weathered by heartbreak over his son and still battling his instinctual urge to flee from responsibility, conflict, the constant demand on him to rise to the occasion. He was never a Jedi. The Force never protected him or empowered him. He will not come back in holograms.
And while I am definitely okay, my snarky teenage son, Star Wars will not be the same without him.