Christmas was approaching. Another Christmas overshadowed by cancer. Plus, this year, the medical bills were really piling up. I kept getting diagnosed with cancer and there wasn't any end in sight. Paying the mortgage was a struggle. I looked around my home office and saw things. Some were very special. Yes, I might even say I loved having them. I saw tons of Star Wars figures. I saw limited edition Star Wars Legos, a Boba Fett Limited Edition (1 of 250!) Figure, my Sony PSP that I purchased on its release date (I was the first person in line!), a laptop, and my iPad. I sold them all. I didn't think twice. Things are things. I was able to pay the mortgage, buy a few Christmas presents, and took care of some bills. I didn’t think about what January would look like.
Months later, a large box of Star Wars toys appeared on my doorstep from someone that I was proud to call a friend. I was brought to tears. I had no idea how or why, but Alex wanted to help replace a piece of my life. I unpacked the box and replaced the holes on my shelves. But, something didn’t feel quite right. Those Star Wars toys weren’t mine. Over the next couple of years, I decided that I was the toys’ steward. They were in my care, but they didn’t belong to me. I needed to find them a home.
I had tried to visit various hospitals locally over the past couple of years. None seemed eager to have a Jedi walk through their halls handing out toys. It was incredibly frustrating! I really wanted to help out some kids that would need a bit of light during December.
And along came St. Joseph’s Villa, a place where children with special needs can thrive. I was overcome with emotion. The kids were a source of never ending questions ranging from writing to the inner workings of my lightsaber. Quite a few tears were shed. I can’t count how many times I heard, “This is the best day of my life” uttered. I was genuinely surprised at the excitement over an old Jedi and his Star Wars toys.
“My” Star Wars toys are home.