‘Stars Wars’ and Grandparenting

Enjoying pop culture with their grandkids falls among grandparents’ privileges and duties. Erasing their naïveté does not. Writer Margo Bartlett understands this when she watches the epic films with her grandsons, connecting “Star Wars” and grandparenting.

It was movie night at my grandsons’ house. Their parents were out, and my husband and I were settled in with boys, pizza, and dog, watching “The Empire Strikes Back.”

They’d seen the movie already, of course. Probably multiple times. If we hadn’t known this, we would have realized, because the moment the action commenced, so did their voiceover commentary, delivered directly into our ears.

“Hoth, probes, Jedi, Sith, Millennium Falcon, Chewbacca,” they said. “Wampa. Tauntauns. AT-ATs.”

They said more than that, of course, but I caught only a few words. Following the general plot was easy, but I appreciated the vocabulary lesson, even though I was sure I’d misheard most of the words. Did they say “tauntauns?” “Endor?” “Dagobah?” Or “taunting?” “Indoor?” “Say goodbye?”

The boys also previewed every iconic line, every memorable scene. “This is famous!” they said before, “There is no try,” “I am your father,” and even “Nooooo!”

As an older person, I’d sometimes attempt to establish my familiarity with 1980s culture. “I’ve heard …,” I’d say. Or “Actually, I did …”

Because I was there. I do know how Yoda talks understand. I did know who was Luke’s father. But I stifled my impulse. My grandsons own the Star Wars legacy now.

Never mind that it began before their birth century. Never mind that it and their own mother were in production at the same time (though not, I emphasize, in the same place). These boys are the current owners of the Star Wars phenomenon as surely as they’re the builders of countless Star Wars LEGO sets.

Grandkids in 2024 should teach grandparents 1980s Star Wars legend and lingo, not the other way around. Furthermore, grandparents are forbidden to dampen their grandkids’ pleasure with harsh facts. They may not say, “The person who played Leia died in 2016.” Or “That Han Solo guy’s 81 years old now.”

They may not explain that the hulking AT-ATs were actually no bigger than standard coffee makers, or that according to movie gossip, the actors inside R2-D2 and C-3PO despised each other. They may not reveal that dozens of wintry scenes and ominous stormtroopers were in fact paintings made by the company Industrial Light & Magic, because creating snowscapes and hiring that many extras cost too much.

These boys will learn the facts soon enough. They probably know some of them already. But while grandparents may teach how to build a birdhouse, how to bait a hook and how to make pancakes, they may not ruin a good saga by insisting on facts.

I didn’t want my grandmother to tell me Hayley Mills wasn’t twins, or that Patty Duke never had a lookalike cousin. I didn’t care to know that Lassie was a series of boys.

I accepted the truth eventually, of course, just as I now accept adult truths: That childhood, which seems endless to a child, dwindles into what amounts to a short clip before the main feature; that often, seemingly unremarkable incidents turn out to be major plot developments; and that no one ever regrets learning how to make change.

My personal adult truths include coming to understand that my father, who left my mother before I was two weeks old, was irredeemably selfish. As a child, I dismissed his absence with a “meh,” and refused to see that a father is more than just a backup mother.

Only when I watched, first, my husband, and in time, my two sons-in-law fathering their own children did I realize: I missed out. I missed a colossal, glittering, galaxy-sized parent.

My father would marry and have a child with another woman before leaving both of them. But as Yoda might say, in me, bitterness is not. The fathers in my life now are Jedi Knights. I’m grateful not to have wasted time mourning the Sith I got.

My grandsons know their share of worldly truths. They’ve been around the playground a few times. But they’ve protected their grandparents, much as their cousin does when she and I watch “Bob’s Burgers” on her computer: We both have the impulse to cover each other’s ears.

We can’t shield those we love from the Dark Side forever. The best we can do is work for the good and reveal the rest slowly, one Wampa at a time. We’ll be turning it all over to our youngers, and we hope they clean things up. “They’re quite clever, you know. For human beings.” (In your ear: This is famous!)

Margo Bartlett worked for newspapers, writing columns and features, copy editing and proof-reading for some 30 years. Now she writes at home, where the work spaces are more comfortable and writing is more fun than ever.

Related to “Star Wars” and grandparenting: Ideas for Quality Time with Grandkids

The post ‘Stars Wars’ and Grandparenting appeared first on Seniors Guide .