May 2nd, 2019


Lost To The Stars.

I have not even posted about it yet, but in April, just a few weeks ago, I got to go to Disney’s annual blowout Star Wars Celebration convention. It was pretty expensive for any autographs & photo ops, so aside from the group photo w my girls & Greg Grunberg, I selected just one person to meet. And it was Peter Mayhew, the original Chewbacca himself. And I am so glad I did. Because Peter Mayhew has passed away.

He had had a stroke or something, before, it seemed like. But he seemed so pleased to be there, goofing it up for the cameras, intently listening to his fans tell him what he & Chewbacca mean to them, messing around with the Chewie replica head they set out on his table. I hope he was glad to have gotten to participate in one last celebration of an icon. *I* am sure glad he was able to be there. It fulfilled a lifetime dream of mine, to meet him.

Star Wars was the beginning of a world of imagination & possibilities for me. It showed me the stars. It taught me loyalty & friendship & courage & hope. And at the center of that, drawing me in, was my first love, Chewbacca. I was gonna marry him, you know. I was five - I thought marriage would be holding his furry hand while we walked, laying on him like a warm fuzzy mattress & blankie all in one, and having him carry me around when my knees hurt. In hindsight, I think I had a pretty good grasp on what marriage should be. And to meet the man behind my Chewie? Well, that was truly amazing. It’s a bittersweet thing I’m feeling.

The stars will shine a little brighter tonight, now that Peter has joined Carrie in lighting up the galaxy. The one here and the one far, far away.

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