Return

Mom went into labor during Return of the Jedi, but she didn’t leave the theater.

Later, whenever she was asked why, Mom would answer, “It was the most I’d ever spent on a movie ticket.”

I’ve always questioned that reason. It’s believable, but I question the rationale because Mom is willing to admit it.

There are other reasons why she might’ve stayed in the movie theatre. The most obvious being that she was twenty years old and scared to deliver her first child.

But maybe that’s too assumptive.

Maybe she didn’t leave the theater because Dad was heaping all kinds of pressure on her: “We’re going to have the perfect little child, and we’re going to raise the perfect little family.” I can picture him politely whispering under rustles of popcorn and clattering ice cubes, trying not to lose his shit.

Maybe it has to do with what was happening in the movie. Was Princess Leia on the planet with the Ewoks? Maybe Mom wanted to stay and focus on the cute… but that wouldn’t be Mom, right?

Maybe she was wrecked by the idea that her late father wouldn’t know his first grandchild.

Maybe, I’m way off.

Mom’s fucking tough.

Maybe she was powering through the pain so she could enjoy her last date night without a kid.

I’ve never asked Mom point blank: “What’s the real reason you didn’t leave the theater?” I don’t think she’d answer me honestly. And though Mom doesn’t owe me that honesty, I keep fixating on the question.

I’ve never tried other tactics like watching Return of the Jedi with Mom because I figured she wouldn’t want to, or worse, she’d agree to watch and then be miserable throughout the whole movie.

So, I keep speculating my own answers for Mom.

Does she do the same?

Does she speculate her own answers to questions like: Why did Bobby chase art instead of anything practical? Why didn’t he stay in Virginia and marry Liz? Why does he keep chasing art? Does he do it all to spite me? Does he ever consider that I might have been right?

If she asked me those questions directly, I wouldn’t answer honestly. I would half-answer, find side-truths, or flat-out lie.

Let’s say I were to answer honestly: “Mom, I didn’t stay in Virginia because the daycare guy abused me, and later Mark did the same.”

Or, “I didn’t stay with Liz because I thought she wanted me to be like the person you wanted me to be.”

If I told Mom those direct answers, she’d be cut.

Maybe that’s why she isn’t honest about leaving the movie theater. But what’s the hurtful answer she’d be withholding: “I didn’t want to have you.”?

That answer would bring me closer to her… but maybe she doesn’t want to be closer to me based on that truth.

I watch Return of the Jedi again. In the movie, before Yoda dies, he says, “That is the way of things. The way of the force.” Somehow, Mom and I know not to ask each other certain questions. Maybe our truths are safer being answered in the other’s mind. Mom and I have that shared instinct—that force. Maybe it’s what keeps us talking.