I’ve been working through all that comes with my 80-year-old mum being in palliative, end-of-life, care. It’s an emotionally unpredictable time, that much I expected. But also, it’s been a time of reconnection and reflection with her. Over the last few weeks, we revisited happy memories and renewed beliefs that offer her comfort.
More than one of these memories has been her encouragement of my discovery of video games as a child. We talked about visiting the Littlehampton Pier where we first laid eyes (and hands) on the large four-player Gauntlet arcade machine. She would stand by my side, providing 10 pence pieces for me to line up across the screen to mark my ambition (and status) to other kids waiting to play.
As we reminisced about the times she attempted to join in, tears formed at the thought of what her enthusiasm for my burgeoning hobby had brought to my life – not only a career in games but all those video game stories, trials and epiphanies I couldn’t imagine life without. But then, we were laughing together as she performed her (now infamous) impression of Gauntlet’s tumbling-into-the-exit sound.
