My mother died in a car accident just over two months ago. It sucked. It still sucks. But, like most dark times in my life, I manage to find some solace in my hobby and in my friends. The folks in our group were amazing, chipping in for a lovely bouquet and donation to the ACS from my “meeples,” and rallying for a game session the weekend after my mother died, helping me to distract myself from endless family drama, funeral arrangements, and an overwhelming sense of loss.
It was really nice being surrounded by my friends, even as I watched my family seem to crumble around me. And it was definitely a lighter moment when Rickster and Jana introduced themselves to my father and were interrupted with, “I know who you are. You’re ‘gamers.'” My father commented to me the next day, “You have really great friends.” I know.
Steve the Bald was extremely generous in his gift of ALL of his Descent 1st ed. ish, which I’ve still only mostly gone through. He also was very nice in his gifting of his newly-arrived 5e PH, which definitely gave my mind something to work on during a tough time.
As I went through the book and plotted out my character creation, I couldn’t help but notice some parallels to the classic stages of grief, so here are the admittedly morbid results of those mental meanderings:
Stage 1: Denial– This system is awesome! So many choices, all classes seem balanced, the powers are super cool!
Stage 2 Bargaining– I wonder if I can convince my DM to make my own deity with it’s own domain and powers.
Stage 3: Anger– What do mean a 1st level fighter can take the Magic Initiate feat and be more powerful than my Warlock?! This is bullshit!
Stage 4: Depression– Siiigh. Even 1st level bards can cast more spells than me.
Stage 5. Acceptance– Oh, well, guess I can play a pre-gen.