▸ Column · New Republic era; an interstellar family caregiving situation, with systems-apart distances replacing state distances, healers and med-scans replacing doctors and CT scans, and comms replacing phone calls.
LEIA ORGANA replies.
Replied to by Leia Organa, with a rebuttal from Han Solo.
The letter
My mother was diagnosed with a memory-fading illness — early-stage cognitive decline — fourteen months ago. My brother Theo lives in the same sector; I'm stationed three systems out. Since then I've been the one handling everything: the twice-weekly healer appointments, the supply runs, the late-night comm calls when she can't remember where she put her medication. Theo sends credits occasionally "for transit costs," as if that's the same as sitting with her through a brain-scan while she squeezes your hand and asks where Father is — Father's been gone six years. Last month I finally told him I needed him to take over for six weeks so I could get back to my own children and stop running on fumes. He said he'd "look into taking some time off." I've learned to translate that. I don't want to blow up what's left of our family over this, but I'm starting to resent my mother for needing me and my brother for not needing anything at all — and I'm not sure which of those feelings scares me more.
Leia Organa replies
The feeling that scares you more is obvious — the resentment toward your mother — and I understand why it frightens you. But let me tell you what it actually is: it's fourteen months of Theo's absence landing in the wrong place. She is not why you are depleted. He is. The math is simple and you haven't let yourself run it yet because the anger at him is inconvenient and the love for her is not.
My losses came all at once; yours is the slow kind — she is still here and still needs you, and the grief is tangled up with the supply runs and the late-night comms and the moment she asks you where your father is. I won't claim I know that specific weight. But I know what it costs to keep carrying when no one else steps forward, and I know that you cannot do this indefinitely while waiting for a man who has already chosen his answer.
Theo has given you his answer. "Look into it" is not a plan — it is a door closed quietly enough that he can keep pretending it's open. You have been standing in that hallway for over a year. Stop asking him. Give him the dates, give him the list, and tell him — not ask, tell him — that you are leaving.
Then go to your children.
— Leia Organa
Han Solo weighs in
Look, Her Highness is going to hand you a battle plan and expect Theo to execute it. Maybe he surprises you. But I know this move — the credits, the card, the "I'll look into it." That's the whole contribution. You can hand him the list and he'll lose it between now and next Tuesday.
Here's what nobody else will say: at some point you stop planning around who Theo's supposed to be and start figuring out what's actually possible with who he is. That's not giving up on your brother. That's flying the ship that actually starts.
And the resentment toward your mom? That's just what happens when someone runs on empty for over a year. Doesn't mean anything terrible about you. It means you needed someone else in that room, and you've been the only one.
Go see your kids. Just don't bet the whole mission on Theo showing up.
— Han Solo