|Monday, May. 23, 2005 || Making all things new|
We took the kids to see Epis0de 3 this weekend. Cost us a whopping $.50 thanks to an almost-forgotten Christmas gift from Janie and crew.
I still remember going to see the first one. We went to a drive-in theater, likely the one that used to stand where K-M@rt and Pizz@ Hut on Ritchie Highw@y are now, though I can’t be certain.
We went with some of our cousins, Walt and David. They lived down the street, and I recall seeing many movies with them during the years that surrounded the release of St@r Wars: at drive-ins…regular theaters…when their dad was one of the first people we knew with the then-wonder called a Video Cassette Recorder.
The next day, as my own boys indulged in all weekend, we played St@r Wars. I, being the oldest, was of course, Princess Lei@. Walt was christened Luke Skyw@lker. David was likely H@n Solo, though I can’t be certain he even played the game with us. He and Janie were close in age and three to five years separated us and them, so they didn’t always join in our antics.
I think we told Marlen that she had to be Darth V@der or Chewie…when there is only one heroine and more than one girl, the “alpha-cousin” (that being me) got first dibs.
I recall Marlen being a bit miffed at that, but hey, whenever we played Dukes of H@zard, she was always D@isy so that was only fair, right? She had the short-shorts to pull it off, and I preferred to be Bo’s love interest of the moment – more drama in that, and back in the day, I did love me some drama.
I don’t recall much of the details of our St@r Wars reenactment, but I do remember lamenting the fact that we couldn’t quite figure out how to rig a rope in their basement so that “Luke” and I could swing across the ship.
I was the eldest sister/cousin on all sides of the family, so generally that meant that I was “in charge”. And though Walt and Mar were merely a few days apart in age and the best of friends, when I joined the group, I had a way of firmly ensconcing myself at the head of the pack with everyone else following along. Well, except perhaps for Tara who had no problem choosing to do her own thing if she didn’t want to join in our fun. But everyone else usually succumbed to the peer pressure of the tall blonde skinny girl. This often relegated Marlen to such fates as being “it” endlessly in Keep-Away because she couldn’t scale the fences as quickly as Walt and me.
I can still see her standing on the opposite street corner, pouting, when she’d finally had enough, while we tried to coax her back into the game.
It’s funny how we settle so easily into certain roles when we are children. And I’ve lately noticed how those perceptions often follow us even into adulthood.
It was easy to continue playing the part of the in-charge, bossy, know-it-all. And for years I settled in nicely and played my role flawlessly.
But time and circumstance, a skinned knee or two, and a few broken hearts later have a way of teaching you that the more you know, the less you really know. And that young girl that folks too often catered to, whose feathers were easily ruffled, whose sharp wit often declined into sarcastic putdowns to protect what was really a very soft center, really isn’t so much like that anymore.
But type-casting exists in real life just as much as it does in Hollywood. And though I know - and a few others do as well - that though the blonde hair and blue eyes remain, the little girl trying so hard to impress and be tough and tell it like it is (it was, after all, her humble-yet-accurate opinion, thank-you-very-much) has grown up quite a lot.
Now she desires to have her Father’s eyes. And she hopes that someday others will see that too.
Not because she desires their praise. But that they may know that He truly does make all things new.
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