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Archive for the 'Bermuda-Jr' Category

In a Galaxy Far, Far Away…

October 28th, 2012 by Bahama

I spent the next 16 years in a self-imposed exile.  I hadn’t planned on the life I loved disappearing before my eyes but that’s exactly what had happened.  In so many ways…

See, about the same time my world crumbled I discovered I was pregnant.  I never intended to have children and this news just added to an overwhleming sense of defeat.  I reluctantly returned to my parent’s home.  There I helped with the family business, did my tailoring and raised my son, Bermuda Jr.

True to his nature, Bermuda was in and out of our lives over the course of those years.  He was never around long enough to be full time father so B.J. readily accepted the attention and advice of an old man who lived nearby.  I didn’t realize it at the time but this man was busy filling my son’s head with silly ideas about ‘the force’ and other such ideas.  I regret not having put a stop to it sooner.

By the time I’d heard that things had changed and it might be safe to return to my life in Theed, it was too late.   B.J. was a stubborn, independent-minded 16 year old with his heart set on becoming a ‘jedi’.   Following in his parent’s footsteps, he left home young to go seek his own path.  While I never agreed with the path he chose, I’m secretly proud that he had the courage to follow his heart.

Free of the responsibility of raising him, I longed to go home.  I flew into Bestine nervous, not knowing what to expect.  I was very disappointed to find things so different.  So quiet.

No More Trainers

Trainers were gone.  There was no longer a tailor trainer in Bestine.

Empty Cantina

The cantinas were empty.

Empty Mos E

Even busy Mos Eisley was quiet.  A ghost town.

empty CoronetEmpty Theed

Coronet, Theed,… the story was the same everywhere.  Everyone was gone.

I really didn’t know at this point what would happen.  I didn’t know what to do. The task of rebuilding my life seemed daunting and I wondered if it was worth even attempting.  I travelled the galaxy searching for an answer…


A Mother’s Tears

February 27th, 2010 by Bahama

I found myself at the lake trying desperately to think of another place to run to.  As if this was something I could run from.  I imagined that retreating from life would somehow stop time, allowing me the luxury to make sense of it all.  I slowly came to the realization that it just doesn’t work that way. 

Reluctantly, I powered up my comm device and was immediately contacted by a customer.  I couldn’t think of a viable excuse to decline making him the special order he requested… so I made it.  When I asked where I could meet him to deliver his goods I really didn’t expect him to tell me that he was already in my shop waiting for me.  I hadn’t planned to go back there yet.  I wasn’t sure I wanted to.  But ready or not, I had a customer waiting on an order I’d already made.  How could I refuse?

He tried on the clothing I’d made for him, was pleased with my work and paid me well.  He even complimented me on my business.  I’m certain he had no idea that the smile he brought to my face was the first I’d smiled in a long while.  He didn’t know that he’d given me just the push I needed to pick up that crafting tool.  Nor did he understand that walking into that shop to meet him made it so much easier than it would have been to go there alone. 

When he’d left I looked around at the familiar surroundings and was reminded how much I love my job.  I love being a tailor and I wouldn’t be anything else.  I checked in with the vendors, fired up the factory and straightened up around the shop.  Doing felt good.

Then a call came from an old friend who I’d not heard from in a very long time.  I travelled to Moneta to see her.  Once again, having a reason to return and knowing that someone would be there to distract me in those first few, fearful moments… well, it made all the difference.   

Once she was settled in I took care of business around town.  It felt so good to be back in my life, doing what I love to do. 

I’m surrounded by all the familiar people and places and things…  but that’s not to say everything is the same.  It’s different.  I’m different.  But this different isn’t as horrible or scary as I imagined it would be.  Life is going to go on.  I’m going to go on.

I’ve determined that there’s reason enough to hold on to hope that the news I received wasn’t true.  I’ve also determined that whether or not it is, this fear and sadness isn’t going anywhere.  But rather than allow it to take over as I have been, I’m putting it in it’s place.  The fact I’ve lost doesn’t mean there isn’t anything more to gain. 

In a nook of the wood I’ve placed a fountain,  “A Mother’s Tears”.   And like my own, it flows endlessly.  But as it flows life goes on around it.  The trees and wildflowers grow, the seasons change, the creatures roam… and occasionally a mother will come by to replenish the water, trim back the bush, enjoy the peaceful cascading of the water and think about the son she loves.

The Only Real Choice

February 17th, 2010 by Bahama

I have a measure of control over most of my life that keeps me steady and makes me comfortable.  I choose where my business is and how it’s run, how often I work and which clients I will serve.  I choose where my home is, how it’s decorated and who has a key to enter.  I’m fortunate enough to have the means to travel when and where I wish with very few exceptions. 

To stop and consider all the decisions and choices, options and possibilites that I’m confronted with daily is mind boggling.  From day to day, even moment to moment, I’m not usually aware of the choices I’m constantly making.  Nor do I consider how that control, the ability to make those choices, affects me…

Until a situation arises where my choices are limited.  Until I encounter something over which I have no control.

I’ve spent the past few days alone, out of contact with friends, customers, citizens, guild members… everyone.  And it’s brought clearly into focus one obvious, undeniable fact of life.  People cause chaos.  What instability, lack of control and limit in choices I have is all caused by the people around me.

While this realization isn’t anything terribly novel, the message I received about BJ has made me look at it from a different point of view.  If these people have the potential to cause chaos in my life and in my heart, why do I allow them that control?  What do I gain?  Is it worth the risk?

But as I sit here in the isolation of the wilderness of Naboo, having purposely cut myself off from everyone and everything I realize the answer to these questions lead me to a much deeper problem.  One much closer to home. A problem that is impossible to escape, even here.

My own heart.

My heart is itself chaotic and unstable, lacking in control, limited in it’s ability to choose whom it will love.  It freely relinquishes my ability to control and choose without considering the consequences or risks.   And there’s nothing I can do about that.

Ironically, what I’m left with is a choice.  I can either live in the light of this reality or fool myself into thinking that I can somehow command my heart not to love. 


February 14th, 2010 by Bahama

My hand shook as I read the message over and over trying to understand the words there.

BJ dead.  Thought you should know. No other info to give.    F. L.

Could it really be that my son was gone? 

It’s been nearly 2 years since I last heard from him.  The forced silence was part of what he choose in allowing himself to become wrapped up in that ridiculous religion.  Yes, he choose that… and the danger.  He choose them both with no regard for what it meant for me.

I tried many times to dissuade him from walking that road.  Perhaps I could have if I’d had more time back then, if I wasn’t so caught up in tending to my business, if I’d known what that crazy old neighbor had been filling his head with, if I could have offered him more adventure in his life, if..

If Bermuda had been around more or hadn’t been supportive when he found out what was going on… maybe then things would have been different.

Then again, maybe not.  He was a stubborn child from a very young age.  Smart and strong….

And now gone?

I have no way to confirm the message.  I don’t know who F. L. is or how I would contact them.  BJ warned me long ago that if something happened to him, I shouldn’t expect more than a message if they even managed to send one.  At the time I just let the matter drop.  Why didn’t I tell him that wasn’t good enough?

It’s not good enough.

This lonely despair I feel is only compounded by the fact that I have no one with whom I can share it.  So few people even know I have a son…. 

I had a son.

I packed a bag quickly and left a note on my office door I’d be gone a few days – urgent business.  I turned of my comm and avoided the usual routes so as not to run into anyone I know.  I know I won’t be able to even speak without breaking down. 

A few days at the lake is all I need.   Just a few days to pull myself together.

How can I pull myself together?

Meeting On My Terms

May 17th, 2009 by Bahama

With instructions to ‘maintain silence’ I left the situation with that troublesome acquaintance behind me.  Or so I’d hoped.

With his plot discovered I figured it was unlikely I’d hear from him again.  I didn’t consider him to be any great threat based on the fact that he’d already had so many opportunities to cause me physical harm and yet he’d only ever tossed a subtle threat at me here and there.

I had every intention of reporting his activities to the authorities as soon as I found the time.  I hoped they might have some ideas about what motive he may have had in the first place.

I didn’t get the chance to do that.

Much to my surprise, he sent a message a few days later.  It was difficult to make out what he was saying with all the explosions in the back ground but I could make out something about the Black Sun.

I told him I had every intention of alerting the authorities to his suspicious activities.  “Who will you report?”, he asked.

“Well, you, of course.”, I responded, a little taken aback that I had to state the obvious.

With slightly restrained chuckle he replied, “See what good it will do you.”  Then he was back to a line of questioning he’d been pursuing since that very first meeting… He wanted to know the details of where I was during the Clone Wars. 

Then a new question.  He asked what I thought of Jedi.

Suddenly I saw a possible motivation for everything that had come before.  My son.

I took a deep breath and steadied my voice, “What do you know… or think you know?”

He repeated the question. 

With as much sincerity as I could muster I responded, “I consider them neither friend nor foe if that’s what you’re asking.”

He then asked what I thought the Jedi stood for and what I thought of clones.  As he continued his questioning there was an audible difference in his voice.  There was anger there, however much he tried to hide it. 

I wanted him to keep talking, to reveal his reasons for asking me in the first place…. so I stated that at the time I was young and didn’t think much on it.

What followed was a tale of clones and jedi told with such sincerity and detail that I found myself feeling for the man who’s story it was …without the suspicion I’m sure the situation merited. 

When his story came to an end, I took advantage of the fact he hadn’t been able to see how his story had affected me and simply told him it was quite a far fetched tale.  I asked him again what he was really after.

For the first time since we’d met, he suddenly seemed quite open and honest.  He had wanted to share his knowledge, then gotten caught up in the trouble we’re having with the Black Sun and besides, it was rare to find a decent person….

I was completely baffled.  Every instinct told me that he was telling the truth.  Every part of me believed everything he’d told me at this point.  Perhaps the explosives had been the Black Sun… goodness knows we’ve had problems with them in the past.  Perhaps he had meant what he said about earning his trust….

But then I hate being taken for a fool.  I needed to look him in the eye and see for myself if he was being truthful with me after all.  I asked him to meet me in a public place I knew well.  I asked him to leave behind his weapons and his infamous helmet.  Without hesitation, he agreed.

The whole flight there I kept going over in my mind all he’d said.  Even if I took it all at face value, even if I believed everything he told me, there was still a danger.  The way he spoke about jedi, the anger in his voice when he’d told his story…  I needed to know if he knew about my son.

I arrived at the meeting place and he was waiting, without weapons or helmet, just as he had promised.  His body language indicated he was relaxed, open… even friendly.  He was willing to answer any questions I had.  So I asked, “What do you know about me?”

He mentioned my business, Moneta, my dislike for armor, my approximate age…. and then mentioned that I had a husband and a son.  I inquired how he knew about my husband and son since neither were around and I rarely spoke of them to even close friends.

I watched his face closely.  The corners of his eye turned up as he smiled a bit and explained he had ‘good hearing’.  Not a trace of deceit nor a hint of anger anywhere to be found.

I breathed a sigh of relief and we began chatting about our little problem with the Black Sun.  I told him we were aware there was a threat and that it wasn’t anything we couldn’t handle.  It seemed we’d finally come to place where we could chat without such mistrust between us.

But suddenly his demeanor changed and his line of questioning took a turn toward the bizarre.  He accused me of being force sensitive, a general in the clone wars and even a jedi!  I laughed at the ridiculousness of it all.  But he continued on. 

I thought to myself that he was either a master of distraction or else a victim of an over active imagination… and I told him so.   He grabbed his helmet and weapon from their hiding spot and left in a hurry, all while insisting that indeed, I must be a jedi.

So much for clearing up the confusion…


January 7th, 2009 by Bahama

I’ve always been careful about the responsibilities and obligations I put on my plate.  It’s not that I consider myself a weak person, but everyone has a breaking point and I aim to make sure I never get to mine.

I suppose you could attribute my whole life here to my tendency to avoid too much responsibility.  It’s a wonderfully romantic story about how I ran off with Bermuda.  But the truth is, as much as I was leaving to be with him, I was also running away from my life at home. 

As an only child, the pressure to fulfill my parent’s dreams and expectations always weighed heavily on me.  My mother never missed an opportunity to make her feelings known about what she thought an ideal life should look like.  She openly criticized the young women who left our small town, unmarried, looking for a different life.

I sometimes wonder if I’d ever have mustered the courage to leave on my own had Bermuda never landed in my life the way he did.  I’m a bit embarrassed to admit that the answer is, mostly likely, no. 

Part of what may have attracted me to Bermuda in the first place is that he put no responsibilities on me.  He was used to taking care of himself. Even when we married, he didn’t expect me to play the part of the housewife waiting to serve him, to take care of him. 

The freedom I enjoyed in my marriage and in owning my own business came to an abrupt halt with the unexpected arrival of Bermuda Jr.  I hadn’t planned to have children – ever.  That’s not to say I don’t love BJ… just that I didn’t expect him. I’m proud to be his mother ….but make no mistake, I’m glad that he’s moved from childhood to manhood.

More recently, I’ve found myself bound to another child of sorts.  The Commerce Union is young and is still developing.  I’m happy with how things have gone so far but I can’t say that there hasn’t been a lot of work and stress involved at times.

I am most fortunate that fate has brought such good people to CU.  Without them, it would be much more difficult to fulfill my obligations.

Son of a Gun

January 28th, 2008 by Bahama

As a parent you try to raise your kids to grow to be adults who can make good responsible choices…..


It doesn’t always work….

Bermuda-Jr’s corpse

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