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Year upon year, I watched you.
I watched you as you continued with life, mourning for me the way I would have for you if it had been you who had died. But I watched in anticipation, to see the great knight you would become.
You were lonely. You had friends, but you never truly opened your heart to them. Except perhaps to Anakin. You were an older brother to Anakin, though you could not be the father he never had.
You had years of vibrant life as a promising young Jedi Knight, going about the Republic and doing the bidding of the Council, always with as much spirit as you could put into it. You always were enthusiastic, even for some of the dirtier chores.
And I watched you. I enjoyed seeing you succeed, respected and valued as a Jedi. And then you watched the Republic crumble, corrupted from within by the Sith. I saw Anakin taken as Sidious's apprentice from your side. I saw the Jedi slaughtered, the Empire formed on the foundations of truth and justice that had existed for so long.
And I mourned with you.
But you escaped, and Anakin's young son was brought up on Tatooine. And you watched him and guarded him, as I watched and guarded you.
I watched you grow old before your time, aged by pain and worry. You were hardly older than I was then, but you had the bearing and look of a man fifteen years older than I. You were alone, often watching the desert on lonely nights. What did you think of then?
And then you met young Luke, and you left Tatooine. I watched you as you fought Anakin, now called Darth Vader. And he struck you down, as you realized that your time was done.
Then you were welcomed back to the Force, to your friends and allies. And I was the one to welcome you home.