Dear Lyla,
Often when you hear talk of the Trinity it is in reference to religion; the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit. When Daddy speaks of the holy triumvirate he is referring to Star Wars, Lord of the Rings and Indiana Jones. This is not to say that Daddy has no faith life, he does; it’s just that his approach to a spiritual walk usually involves a dose of dystopian narrative mixed with special effects and computer generated imagery. Daddy frequently articulates the Christ themes in many of the films and novels that have enjoyed longevity among the populous; it is the fact that these fictional creations can offer a moral examination of one’s own existence that most likely drew Daddy to English education. However, sometimes Daddy goes a bit too far in his effort to streamline the secular and the spiritual; usually at Mommy’s expense. When we lived in Columbia, MO the Star Wars films were being re-released in the theatres. Daddy had seen those films multiple times over when he was a kid. I, on the other hand, had only seen Star Wars as a rental on our television and so Daddy was determined that we would see them together on the big screen. It was a wonderful experience viewing the film with true Lucas fans; their energy and enthusiasm while watching familiar elements unfold was amazing. These Yoda devotees would shout endless warnings to the heroes and reprimands to the villains all the while knowing how the story would end. That Christmas, as a nod to Daddy’s obsession, I purchased three Christopher Radko ornaments for our tree; Darth Vader, C3PO and a Storm Trooper. Daddy was afraid they would get broken on the tree and so a special ornament stand was purchased for these treasures; to this day removing them from their padded storage boxes causes us to hold our breath until they are safely secured to their posts. As you know little one, I take holiday decorating very seriously; that year was no exception. I had decked the halls, trimmed the tree, hung the stockings with care and had displayed the nativity crèche that your Daddy gave me the year prior lovingly on the top of the roll top desk in our entry way. I was so proud of that nativity scene and it was so beautiful; all of the pieces were made out of off-white porcelain with gold painted accents. Almost everyone who saw it commented on how pretty it was and you couldn’t miss seeing the display, it was the first thing you encountered when you stepped into our living area. That season I decorated early and we had many parties and celebrations between Thanksgiving and Christmas, lots of visitors to our home. I began to notice something peculiar; when I would walk from the living room into the kitchen or from the kitchen back into the living room your Daddy and quite a few of our friends would quip “May the Force be with you Baby Jesus.” At first I thought it was quirky musings from a bunch of adults reliving their adolescence; but the frequency with which the phrase was uttered began to intensify. Just a few days before Christmas I had heard that phrase so many times I finally got fed up and shouted at your Daddy “What is wrong with you?” He laughed so hard that he cried; his response fueled my anger. Taking pity on me, or perhaps out of a sense of self preservation, he said “Turn around.” Behind me was my beautiful crèche, but for the life of me I couldn’t see what was so funny about a porcelain nativity scene; and then I saw it. Nestled between Mary and Joseph was a small plastic Yoda almost the same hue of the porcelain peering over Baby Jesus. From the peels of renewed laughter behind me, it had clearly been there a long time. Through his laughter I heard one last “May the Force be with you Baby Jesus” escape your Daddy’s lips. What other response was there from me but to laugh right along with him? Beyond the fact that your Daddy likes to aggravate and tease me any time the opportunity arises, I think he was trying to teach me a lesson. I was so caught up in the trappings of the season (baking, decorating and shopping) that I forgot to enjoy it and this was his subtle way of telling Mommy to chill out. I will admit little one that sometimes I do still get caught up in the busyness of the holidays, but when you came into our lives and as we get older it is easier to focus on the importance of embracing the love that comes with all of the laughter in our home. May the Force be with you Lyla.
Letters To Lyla 