Remembering my dad through the games we played

My father, Joseph, was not an emotionally accessible person—a practiced art learned from his father, a retired army colonel, and further refined by his own time in the military. This made real communication with him difficult between my four siblings and me. But we can always talk about games.

While my siblings and I rarely saw eye to eye with my dad, video games gave us all a reason to come together, find common ground, and even open up to each other at times. Even if it meant looking over his shoulder as he played X wingor Sid Meier’s Pirates!, that was the time my father and I spent together. It didn’t matter that I barely understood spreadsheets Railroad tycoon worked; playing that game was still a small window through which I could relate to my father.

My father and his love of games sparked my curiosity about technology and the gaming industry as a child, eventually leading me to continue working with video games as an adult. He never took me or my siblings on fishing trips, but he had no qualms about taking the time to teach a 7-year-old how to use DOS.

I will always remember us both banging our heads against a specific mission X wing (historic mission 6 for the Y-Wing, to be exact). After a few failed attempts on my own, my father saddled me up and told me ominously, “Leave the room and close the door behind you.”

Of course I did, thinking I was in deep shit. But not 30 minutes later I heard singing coming down the stairs. It was my dad, fully engaged in the festive Ewok dance of Return of the Jedi. Speechless, I celebrated with him our triumph over the Galactic Empire.

Image: Totally Games/LucasArts

Everyone gets nostalgic about their favorite games for some reason, but for me the nostalgia is also tied to memories like that, and also the times when I was philosophical about our favorite games with my dad, like Command and rule or Age of Empires 2.

Photo courtesy of Alice Newcome-Beill

But a lot has happened since then. The gaming industry has turned into something my dad wouldn’t recognise, kind of like me. After I went to college, my parents divorced, I came out as trans, and my dad and I pretty much lost contact with each other. I occasionally got second-hand information from my siblings, but my dad and I never really got a chance to reconnect or reconcile. He passed away a few months ago.

We missed the chance to make amends, but playing the games we shared long ago will always remind me of my dad and how he shaped the person I am today. It’s the closest we ever came to a real connection back then, and it’s something I’ll hold onto now that he’s gone.