I took an inadvertent trip down memory lane recently while on vacation, and it left me with such warm and fuzzies.
We were on our annual escape to middle-of-nowhere Maine, and we had some early afternoon drizzle one day. After some grumbling as we drug ourselves off the lake for a little bit of indoor downtime, I wandered to the game shelf and my rainy-afternoon spirits lifted. There, in it’s very old and weathered box with taped corners and a sunken lid, was one of my favorite games from my childhood – LIFE.
As we set up the board, I couldn’t help but smile as I placed my little pink person in the driver’s seat of my game piece car. I remember playing with my girlfriends as a kid, and how we’d squeal with delight when we landed on the “get married” space and we’d get to add the little blue passenger to our vehicle. Further anticipation and squeals (of both joy and despair) followed as we landed on “choose career” and “buy a house.” As we played recently amidst the sounds of the lapping lake and gentle rain, I remembered so vividly how badly I wanted to pull the “Tudor” card as a girl, moaning when I was stuck with one of the other choices. It’s funny, as an adult, the “Tudor” wouldn’t even be in my top three (hello, “Country Cottage,” “Victorian,” or “Farmhouse”).
As we continued our play, I smiled as we each got to add little pink and blue passengers to the back seat of our cars. I remember how much fun that was a kid too – my one girlfriend always loaded her car up with pink, and I always added pink and blue, if given the choice. It was such fun, getting to visually curate our visions for the future (as much as the game allowed).
Navigating the board with my son, a first-time player, was such a joy also. There was a great learning opportunity for him with some of the “real life” concepts, like understanding the benefits or consequences of buying or not buying home insurance. He landed on a game space that had something to do with a home flood – with insurance he didn’t need to pay anything, and without the cost was steep. At first, he was so mad to shell out his hard earned “payday” cash for damage repairs until we reminded him that he had purchased insurance. His newly braces-adorned smile was huge as he sighed “Oh man, thank goodness. That would’ve been like, all my money.”
As the game ended and we counted our money, our “LIFE” tiles and our stocks, my heart was so full. I had had such a wonderful dose of nostalgia and memory, and it was such fun sharing that with my son. Plus, I won.
We packed the pieces back up into the aged box and tucked it back into its place on the game shelf, sure to be pulled out again next year when we return. We changed back into our swimsuits and got back to lake life, and as I sit here writing and remembering it all, I can’t help but thinking “LIFE (sure is) good.”
Warm and Fuzzy Regards,