I feel like my husband and I were the last people on earth to see the new Star Wars movie. The theater was completely crowded and full of people dressed as Storm Troopers and Jedi, along with a few Chewbaccas.
With excitement in our eyes, my husband and I made it to the seats in the center of the theater. It didn’t take long before the entire theater was full and people were powering down their phones and focusing on the movie screen.
As the TIE fighters and Starfighters started engaging in an epic battle in the middle of the galaxy, the sounds of familiar blasters and cheering filled the air.
But all I could hear was your kid making loud noises, like laughing at scenes that weren’t funny—ones that were meant to be suspenseful and thrilling.
And with the quiet that would come before a climatic scene, your child would laugh.
Thanks a lot for bringing your kid to the Star Wars movie.
People paid good money to see this amazing film, and all I kept hearing was your kid! In the scene where Rey was trying to fight off Kylo Ren, I was on the edge of my seat, hoping beyond all hope that Rey would find the force within her and defeat Kylo Ren.
I couldn’t take it any longer. I started crying. Your kid made me cry. Cry at Star Wars for heaven’s sake!
Like big, fat, ugly tears crying.
All I wanted to do was get lost in Storm Troopers and light saber battles, and your kid kept laughing.
Do you know how embarrassed I felt with tears streaming down my face while the Starkiller Base was being blasted and I had to use those hard theater napkins to blow my nose? Which gave me a Rudolph-looking nose when the movie was over, because, as much as I wanted to lose myself in this movie…
your loud kid helped me remember my son.
That moment that was unrehearsed when your child innocently found something so funny that they just couldn’t keep it in reminded me of my son. That moment when you, as a parent, were silently pleading with your child to please silence all noises reminded me of my son.
That moment when you probably instantly regretted thinking that “he will fall asleep” during this movie reminded me of my son.
You see, our son Isaac passed away earlier this year from an infection in his heart. With the loss of a child, some days it’s hard to smile, to find something to laugh at, and some days, to even breathe.
A night out with my husband was supposed to be carefree and easy—an evening of adult only activities—but this date night turned into an evening that made us both remember Isaac and laugh about all the movies that we (as a family) collectively ruined for all those around us.
For all the dedicated Star Wars fans who were probably totally ticked off at you and your happy kid, thank you for bringing your child to see Star Wars this weekend. Thank you for letting them continue to enjoy a movie that they obviously loved.
Thank you for reminding me that it’s OK to remember.
And to cry. And to laugh about it afterwards.
I hope you enjoyed the movie as much as your child and as much as I enjoyed listening to him laughing throughout the movie.
May the Force be with you,
Kathy (the only person ever to cry at a Star Wars movie)