Animal Crossing is a sad story about a boy whose mother is disabled and learns to play computer games.
About two years ago, I bought the game Animal Crossing. It was fun for awhile, me and my brother played it for about a month, then got tired of it.
I’m always trying to convert my parents to videogames, however, and I thought that Animal Crossing would be simple enough for them to get into.
I let my mom set up a house, and she soon got into the game in a big way. (As a kid, she had polio, and now she had multiple sclerosis. She was largely homebound, except for the once our twice when she’d either leave to go shopping or to church.)
Spending all day at home in a wheel chair bored her, so the relief Animal Crossing provided her was kind of amazing. She’d spend so much time playing it, that it became something of an obsession.
She played it so much that she was constantly getting kidded by the family. She payed off her house in the game, she collected all the fossils, etc.
Whenever I saw her playing, I thought that the game must have long since stopped being interesting to her, yet she kept playing- even after me and my brother had long since stopped.
Her condition got progressively worse, and she eventually stopped playing. About a year ago, she passed away.
I had forgotten about Animal Crossing, I hadn’t played it in over a year and a half. Today, however, I decided to visit the village again and see what was up. Weeds had grown everywhere, the villagers wondered where my mom and I had gone.
Then I came to my mailbox, it was full of letters with presents- all from my mom. Every letter was pretty much the same.
“Thinking of you. Thought you’d like this present. Love, Mom”
Even though I’d stopped playing, she continued to send me presents. I look back now at how I made fun of her for playing even after she’d done everything, and I realize now that she was probably spending her time getting presents for me.