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July 2003
Before I get started, I'd like to devote a little bit of column space to a very special lady whom we bade good-bye to this past week. I first met her on my wedding day over 23 years ago, when she walked up before the service began and introduced herself as my Grandma Reader. Mind you, she didn't introduce herself as my Bride's Grandma Reader, or as Earl's (my soon to be Father-in-law) Mother. She was the kind of person that, pretty much from the time Nancy and I decided to get married, considered me family. Grandma Reader was 96 years old when she passed on June 17th, 2003. While the years had slowed her down, she was still active and lucid until that final stroll down the hallway towards the lunchroom. It wasn't that long ago that she was teaching other residents of the Retirement Apartments she lived in how to do the Charleston. I'm not even half her age, and I don't think I could manage the Charleston, even leaning on a walker. If you picture Heaven as a quiet, sedate place, forget it. Grandma and others like her will make sure it's lively beyond belief.
She outlived two husbands, one of her children, and a few of her grandchildren. She raised a family during the Depression, and had some of her progeny off fighting in at least a couple of foreign wars. In spite of all the difficulties she endured during her time on this Earth, she lost neither her upbeat outlook nor her zeal for life. Even more amazing, during her Memorial Service and the discussions afterwards, no one in the family could recall her ever saying something bad about anyone.
Grandma Reader was a very special lady who won the heart of nearly everyone who ever knew her. In this game we call life, I still so often feel like a Newbie with so much to learn. Fortunate, indeed, were those blessed to have someone like her to teach them how to play this game.
This segues nicely into my topic for this month. Gaming, for many of us, is an escape from the day to day realities that press in on us from every side. We enjoy the ability to step out of the constraints of this world to immerse ourselves in a make-believe world where the rules are a little less intense. Winning or losing in a game is only as serious as we want it to be, whereas in real life, losing may mean dire consequences that can bring hardship not only on ourselves, but on those around us. It's nice in a game world to be able to laugh off a loss, simply because you know that it's "only a game," and the loss only lasts until the next game begins.
I've found, though, that we have a strange tendency to forget the distinction between real life and our games. Sometimes our games become such a commitment to us that they can become as stressful as the real life we try to escape in them. We get angry about problems in the game. We stress about how we're going to accomplish something in the game. We apologize profusely because real life problems take us away from the game.
I understand all of that. I've been there before and experienced all of those feelings. What I want to discuss, though, is that last one. I understand that other people may have adjusted their schedules around a gaming session, and therefore we express our apologies for possibly spoiling that time when we're unable to make it. We feel bad when we've committed to a time to meet others for the game, whether in person or across the internet, and something happens and we cannot meet that commitment. Apologizing for the inconvenience others experience due to something we have to do is simple courtesy.
My point, though, is that while it can be frustrating or inconvenient to have to miss or reschedule a game, it is just a game. It can wait. Some things in real life cannot wait, and we should not feel bad because we choose to correctly prioritize those above the game. For example, recently someone we know in the internet game we play had to miss a special "in game" event because his daughter was having a tough time emotionally and needed her Daddy. A year from now, few people will remember whether he was at the game event or not, and while he was missed, his absence did little to dampen the spirit of the event. On the other hand, how long do you think the daughter would have remembered if Daddy had chosen the game over her? I can pretty much guarantee that she'll remember Daddy being there when she needed him long after we've all forgotten this game.
Life has no "Reset," nor does it contain "Save Points." We cannot reshuffle and re-deal. We can't roll again when the dice land badly. We can't go back to the last "save point" and start again, knowing better what to do this time around. It's great when there is an "undo" function in the game to allow us to correct our mistakes, but real life is not like that. Real life demands our attention sometimes, and returns severe consequences if we ignore those demands. It can also offer incredible rewards if we heed them. We may not know when we make our decisions how the seemingly trivial details of our real lives will affect those around us in the long run, but if we let the gaming world replace the real world, we'll never know the wonders of touching someone else with the simplest of things.
Simple things, like having someone introduce themselves as "your Grandma." My wedding day was a busy day so full of details that I've forgotten so many of them. I cannot recall the words my Best Man toasted us with at the reception, but I never forgot the warmth and affection of those few words spoken by an older lady I'd never met before.
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