Children, Games, Relationships

Let the Games Begin

Here’s a little story about my mid-life courtship. It was the summer of 2001. Pure Luck and I had known each other for about a year, he had known my children for about six months, and we decided to test the waters for group activities by (wait for it) taking the kids away for a weekend. Off we went to Boothbay Harbor, where we had a horribly bad time. The kids were awful. I thought I would never hear from Pure Luck again. To top it all off, when we went on a Whale Watch, I left the Dramamine at the cottage and found myself throwing up off the back of the boat.

A few days later, when to my utter surprise he had asked me to have lunch, he said, “I’d like to run a game for the boys.”

Now one of the fascinating things about Pure Luck, from the boys’ point of view, was his history as a gamer. Starting in college, he was really into Dungeons and Dragons. In his twenties and early thirties, he ran a game for a group of friends set in a universe of his own making. He had a collection of teeny little figures and more dice than a casino. This was all meaningless to me, but thrilling to the boys.

We invited a friend of #2 Son’s to join us, and so the game began. Pure Luck insisted that I play. Talk about clueless! But play I did, taking on the role of Trillium, a Druid priestess.

Three years have gone by. Last night we played for the first time since #1 Son left for college. We have a new set of characters, and the father of #2 Son’s friend plays with us now. I know all about dice and rounds and character sheets and have developed hymns and prayers for my new character Drea Valerian, a priestess of Navarre, the God of Healing. (New uses for those great old Latin hymn tunes!)

We came full circle when the characters boarded a ship to go down the river on our latest adventure. Guess who failed the saving throw and got seasick?