Princess Laia has been rushed
to a hospital in Los
Angeles London
The news comes as a shock
since we are all wrapped up on nostalgia these days after she reappeared in a
squeal Star Wars film last year.
She touched our lives in a
way many of us do not fully understand, part of a myth that came real at a time
when we all desperately needed something to fill the gap we all felt in our
personal lives.
The reunion only went to show
how we are all aging together, and that she has become an icon of a generation
that is in the process of passing on, leaving behind a marker for what was, not
so much of what will be.
We live in perilous times,
when all the promises for a bright future dim and become the harsh reality few
of us predicted let alone prepared for, of children who have become so spoiled
as to presume they deserve things without the struggle and pain that their parents
(us) and our parents and their parents before them went through, and now have
to learn the lesson over again the way those generations unlucky enough to get
born into times such as these have had to, so that we might rebuild a vision of
the future we were denied.
Star Wars came out at the end
of the 1970s just when the fabric of our lives was starting to shred, and we
came to realize that the high hopes we’d had coming into the 1970s did not seem
to be materializing, musicians, artist, poets and such forced into manual labor
so similar to that which our fathers labored we were rapidly becoming our
fathers.
Then, dangling before our
eyes, the way the space ships in the film dangled from hidden strings, we got
introduced into a new, brighter, and mythological future, filled with heroes
and villains we came to love and hate as if they were real.
Laia was the woman we all
wished we could love, and did from afar, not because we knew who she really
was, but only that which she was to us.
Media is full of stories
about her struggle during the flight, mingling fact with fancy as she struggles
against a power far more lethal than Lord Vader, in a conflict we all must face
and are coming to face with her: our own mortality.
Today is my best friend’s
birthday. He would have been 67 had he lived, passing away at the age of 45 in
the mid-1990s when we all had already come to face the morality of our parents
and their parents, and glimpsed our own on the horizon.
Carrie Fisher’s age surprised
me. She in fact is younger than we are, a mere 60, when the rest of us have
already passed through half our 60s and plunge towards that age when we can no
longer deny that we are old.
I sincerely hope she gets
better, both for her sake and our own. We still need her to help guide us through
this dark universe towards some brighter future. We need to know there is still
hope for us.
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