Endgame or Origin Story?

This past weekend was the opening for Avengers: Endgame.  I drove from Dallas to Austin to watch it with my son, James. It was everything I hoped for.

In spectacular fashion, Marvel completed a franchise of twenty-two films spanning eleven years. They did a fantastic job weaving together characters, closing out storylines, all while pulling on your heartstrings.

James faithfully watched each movie with me. We went to the theater nineteen times and watched from home three times.

These movies have been an integral part of our father/son relationship. We went faithfully while he was in elementary-, middle-, and high-school and his freshman year of college. Various quotes have become part of our regular expression. I have unwrapped Marvel t-shirts most Christmases. We have talked about what is coming next and argued about our favorite characters.

As Endgame drew to its finale, I admit to tearing up. My emotion came not only from watching how the characters’ decisions unfolded but also because of the parallels to my life. Watching them deal with their problems has encouraged me to reach for the stars.

When Tony Stark was discovering Iron Man, I was discovering my own strengths that had laid hidden for years. As Thor struggled with the passing of his loved ones, I mourned my own losses. At the same time that Steve Rogers transformed into Captain America, I was stepping into my own destiny. While Bruce Banner confronted his inner demons, I have also faced mine. Like Peter Parker was mentored, I have been raising up the next generation.

To me, these movies are more than just entertainment. I believe that superheroes are real and have used these characters and their stories to help James find that spark inside himself.

There are people in the world who have exceptional abilities, but it isn’t their physical strength that matters most. Heroes are special because they hold onto hope. They believe that one person can make a difference and are willing to sacrifice everything for someone they do not know.

The world needs heroes.

Each superhero has an origin story. Some event or person inspired them to use what they have been given to help others. Once they were committed, they disciplined themselves mentally and physically for the task ahead. They learned the code.

Seek justice. Love mercy. Focus through the pain. Never give up. Forgive yourself when you fail.

During adventure, victory, and tragedy, I have tried to honor the code and be an example for my children. I have lifted them onto my shoulders, then waited for them to take flight. After twenty-two Marvel movies and as many years as a father, I am satisfied that I’ve given my best.

When the screen faded to black and credits started to scroll across the screen, I knew that an era had ended. Evil had threatened and heroes had risen. Their stories had been told and come to a close. They are now larger than the battles they won. They have become symbols of hope to a world that needs it.

I was thirty-something and when I took an eight-year-old boy to see Iron Man. Walking out of Endgame, I followed a nineteen-year-old man who is ready to make his own mark on the world.

My work is not finished, but his story is just getting started. This has been his origin story. His destiny lies ahead.

Fight the good fight, son, and know that I will always believe in you. Now go. The world needs you.