Yesterday Dr Marry and I saw The Rise of Skywalker, the final Star Wars film (although I feel like Star Wars* is like The Rolling Stones or Cher–I’m not absolutely certain they understand what the word “final” really means since they seem to announce their *final* world tour again and again). But I digress… As previously mentioned in this blog, I often have a physical reaction to things ending. But this felt super heavy on my chest because I saw Star Wars (you know, back when it was just called Star Wars because we didn’t know there were going to be 600 of them) when I was four; in fact,…