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I laughed, I cried; no seriously, I did.
16 years ago
So the the trekking of stars and the peculiar memories they bring with them; no spoilers to be had so feel free to unavert thine eyes.
I went to see this with my sister (who, truth be told, is the true Trek-geek in the family.) My plan was to enjoy the special effects, not to think too long or hard about the plot, and enjoy the IHOP trip that would come later, complete with strawberry cheesecake crepes. When someone mentioned that there was a bit of time travel involved, I groaned. Seriously sci-fi movies, leave the transversing of the chrono sphere to the experts. You know, those guys with doctorates who travel about in police boxes.
To my surprise, JJ Abrams apparently has a doctorate of his own and whatever he travels in, it is doubtless bigger on the inside than the out.
So, I am watching this movie, admiring the low tech-high tech ships, the "lived in" look of the characters and world, and about ten minutes into the thing, it hits me. Dad would have loved this. It was everything he loved about Star Trek, everything that made him smile that joyful grin before inevitably tickling whoever was in arm's reach. My father died before he could see this movie and it struck me how bitterly unfair it was that he never got to see it, that I never got to see it with him.
It was one of the first times since the funereal that I truly missed the man.
Don't get me wrong, he was abusive, an adulterer and sometimes I tense up, for no reason, just because I think I hear him lurking outside my bedroom door. Ah but Star Trek (come to think of it, Dr Who too,) there we were family. Within the hallowed halls of Starfleet academy, we bonded. He was a first generation fan who could appreciate the Next Generation's charm. He didn't mind the cheesy special effects, and lord knows he didn't mind the short skirts.
So here I am, watching a fantastic movie, and I've got a lump in my throat wishing my daddy was there with me.
I didn't officially start crying until the end of the movie and I walked out in a bit of daze. My sister noticed my mood and I had to wave her off, saying I would explain within the safety that could only be provided by a short stack of pancakes. When I told her, voice choking up, she looked at me and at that moment, we both got it. We both wanted our daddy there with us, to share our strawberry cream cheese crepe and tell him that we forgave him.
Silly, isn't it? I mean,the man could never handle his strawberries.
I went to see this with my sister (who, truth be told, is the true Trek-geek in the family.) My plan was to enjoy the special effects, not to think too long or hard about the plot, and enjoy the IHOP trip that would come later, complete with strawberry cheesecake crepes. When someone mentioned that there was a bit of time travel involved, I groaned. Seriously sci-fi movies, leave the transversing of the chrono sphere to the experts. You know, those guys with doctorates who travel about in police boxes.
To my surprise, JJ Abrams apparently has a doctorate of his own and whatever he travels in, it is doubtless bigger on the inside than the out.
So, I am watching this movie, admiring the low tech-high tech ships, the "lived in" look of the characters and world, and about ten minutes into the thing, it hits me. Dad would have loved this. It was everything he loved about Star Trek, everything that made him smile that joyful grin before inevitably tickling whoever was in arm's reach. My father died before he could see this movie and it struck me how bitterly unfair it was that he never got to see it, that I never got to see it with him.
It was one of the first times since the funereal that I truly missed the man.
Don't get me wrong, he was abusive, an adulterer and sometimes I tense up, for no reason, just because I think I hear him lurking outside my bedroom door. Ah but Star Trek (come to think of it, Dr Who too,) there we were family. Within the hallowed halls of Starfleet academy, we bonded. He was a first generation fan who could appreciate the Next Generation's charm. He didn't mind the cheesy special effects, and lord knows he didn't mind the short skirts.
So here I am, watching a fantastic movie, and I've got a lump in my throat wishing my daddy was there with me.
I didn't officially start crying until the end of the movie and I walked out in a bit of daze. My sister noticed my mood and I had to wave her off, saying I would explain within the safety that could only be provided by a short stack of pancakes. When I told her, voice choking up, she looked at me and at that moment, we both got it. We both wanted our daddy there with us, to share our strawberry cream cheese crepe and tell him that we forgave him.
Silly, isn't it? I mean,the man could never handle his strawberries.
Thanks ^,^
Yer welcome. ^.^
My family never was much into Star Trek, so I had to rely on my friends to pull me in to the show when I'd go over to their houses. One of my best friends still has the whole collection (72 episodes - or 73, I never remember) on video-tape (from the early 1980s) and I believe she treasures it more than life itself. ^_^
I've been a Trekkie until Deep Space Nine - then along came "Enterprise" and THEN I started to cringe. I hope this movie has the power to revamp the Star Trek series once again on television.
And d'awww... your father may not have been Father of the Year or even a decent human being, but in some small way(and from beyond the grave, no less) he let you know that he loved his kids, when push came to shove. If you can hold on to that, cherish that memory for as long as you can... well, in that regard the ones we love never truly leave us.
Slag... now I'M getting all misty-eyed thinking about my maternal grandfather, who passed away last September... now there was a prince among men.
And *hugs* I lost my maternal grandfather this year too, and much like yours, he also was a prince among me.
*hugs back* Yay for believing in miracles!
We can talk about this all you want privately....but, in front of your friends...I wanted to say.
It is be best possible Mother's Day gift to me to know that, despite all of the pain he caused you, my son loved my husband and was given a very special opportunity to grieve for him. It is in the small things of our lives that strike hardest at the heart.
And, for good or bad, he had a part in shaping your life......and....in his own disturbed, uneven way....and as much as was possible for him.....he loved you.
Perhaps I didnt screw up so badly after all.
*sends a HUGE snuggly bunnyhug*