this post will have spoilers for the bad batch season 3, and also contain some vulnerability from me (shocker!)
the very essence of paternity and maternity have made me more emotional in my old age (i know i’m not old, but older than i’ve ever been before) and what it really means to be a parent has developed the ability to reduce me to tears.
i believe this is because of everything i have been through with my own parents, and everything i will continue to go through with them. i have watched my mother fight battle after battle, survive for her children because that is what mothers do. because of this, the scene where ahsoka’s mother roars in the face of a predator, in the face of danger, for her own brings tears to my eyes (tales of the jedi, ep 1). i have watched my father throw everything that should have mattered away over and over, because that is what him as a father does. because of this, the progression of hunter and omega brings tears to my eyes (the bad batch series).
i just recently saw a post (this one to be exact) with the caption “is there anything so undoing as a daughter?” meaning, having a daughter is what makes a man change is ways; having a daughter undoes every way of thinking a man has developed because he has no choice but to change. whether that is for the better or worse is up for debate. in my own case, it was unfortunately for the worse.
but in omegas case, it was only for the better. i am so touched, so weepingly emotional, knowing that she spent her life knowing she was loved. hunter, and the rest of them for that matter, had not known just what they would be for omega and still they walked into it blindly. is there anything so undoing as a daughter? hunter had not known what they would go through with omega, what they would go through for omega and still he went back for her. is there anything so undoing as a daughter? hunter had not known just how big their fight would get and still he never turned back. is there anything so undoing as a daughter?
up until the very end, everything was for her. everything was for to be happy, safe, to live the life of a child because that is what she deserved; and that is what he would fight every day to give her. sitting on those rocks, in that cave on pabu, with his achy bones and greying hair and her red bandana and boundless courage, he confessed to not only her but to the maker that she was their kid.
i was someone’s kid, someone’s daughter, and they could not bring themself to confess. they could not bring themself to change. they could not bring themself to fight for me, for their family. is there anything so undoing as a daughter?
perhaps not for me and my father, but for omega and hunter, yes.