Post-Divorce Bonding with My Daughter with Minecraft
I actually don’t remember why I first bought Minecraft. The game came to Xbox 360 in 2012, when my daughter was only two years old. I noticed the game through YouTube videos, watched it grow and become more popular, but I didn’t really want to play it. It seemed like a game for kids. I didn’t understand how complex the game could get until I started seeing people post videos about how they were using Minecraft’s in-game tools to create things like working calculators. Sure, that’s nothing I need; I’m not going to boot up minecraft if I need to work out a budget. But the idea that the game would offer the tools to do something like that made me take notice. Maybe it wasn’t a game for little kids after all…
…Then again, my daughter did need a few new games to play. The only games that she really seemed to enjoy were a Nintendo Wii Zoo game and Red Dead Redemption (Yes, I let my daughter play Red Dead Redemption, and it was everything I hoped it could be). Maybe she’d like this digital version of Legos, and maybe I’d find something about the game to like, too. After all, I was still curious. The game had survival elements, and that was intriguing to me. Not only did I have to find resources to build a shelter, I had to hunt for food to survive! That seemed like a relaxing way to spend some time, maybe something to do while listening to music.
We got the game when my daughter was about six years old (I think). She was getting better at video games but still liked the easy stuff. We started the game, walked around for a while, punched some trees, and then something attacked! I don’t remember what it was, but it made a sound… probably a zombie wanting brains. My daughter screamed, tossed the remote, and ran away. Well, that worked like a charm! Back to Red Dead Redemption for my kid, a game that won’t be too scary for her (I know, it doesn’t seem like Minecraft would be scarier than Red Dead, but that’s the world we live in. It just is!).
Eventually, I somehow got my daughter to give Minecraft another shot. Actually, more than likely, she saw one of her friends playing Minecraft, realized she still had the game, and then decided that she wanted to play the game her friends were playing. That’s fine, I’m not jealous. I swear, I’M NOT JEALOUS! Regardless, when we started playing again, it was miraculous. It was the beginning of an ongoing adventure that a small girl-child and a fully grown man-child would both enjoy for years to come.
My child’s big idea was to create a zoo. She’d learned that she could spawn animals into the game while in creative mode. She also learned that monsters wouldn’t attack while we were in creative mode. Needless to say, we were basically in creative mode all the time. Her favorite animal was the wolf, because of Red Dead Redemption.
We decided to cut into a mountain and turn it into a “natural wolf habitat.” We cleared out enough space to spawn a few wolves, and then I noticed a mountain looming in the distance that made our little wolf sanctuary seem insignificant in comparison. Perhaps I’m a bit obsessive-compulsive, or maybe I’m just odd, but I immediately wanted to clear out the inside of that mountain and turn it into a hollowed-out luxury apartment complex. I got to work. As I cleared out the insides of the mountain, I assigned my daughter the task of making it appealing to all the animals that would live there. I built individual rooms and staircases. My daughter decorated the insides with colorful carpets and banners, placed furniture and paintings, and spawned wolves with special collars to help us recognize them. Her favorite wolf was named Magenta and wore a magenta collar. We built a monument to Magenta at the top of our colossal mountain.
It was beautiful.
Now let me tell you how this Minecraft file jumped the shark. It was my fault, of course. After seeing the wonder of our natural mountain tower, with all its inside and outside ornaments and splendors, I decided to create the biggest structure I thought I could handle: a skyscraper that stretched all the way to the Xbox 360’s build limit. This wasn’t a 10 x 10 box, either. It had enough room on the first floor for several roomy wolf hotel rooms, there was a giant red carpet leading to two matching majestic fireplaces, and staircases going up to the next floors. The project took weeks to complete. My daughter tolerated my obsession, but not without frequent breaks to take our wolves for walks around the island and to visit our mountain palace.
As I continued to build, I noticed one huge flaw; when I began the project, I thought I had started far away from all our other projects, but now the once-magnificent view from the mountain palace’s windows were obscured by a sheet of endless gray that went above the clouds. There was no view worth seeing. I floated the idea of exploding the gray monstrosity to oblivion, but my daughter was too invested in the project herself at that point. She had wolves living there! We had spent so much time building it! So there it was, a boring, gray, rectangular prism towering over our beautiful (but modest in comparison) mountain home.
I can’t complain too much. My daughter thought it was funny to make fun of the missing view that we’d once appreciated so much. “Let’s see what’s going on outside, Daddy… yep, I still see a big gray wall!” And then we put a leash on our wolves and visit everything we’d worked on, beautiful, ugly, incomplete. My daughter was a huge fan of Katy Perry at the time, specifically the song “Double Rainbow.” We’d walk the wolves, explore the dark corners of our mountain, climb the floors of our skyscraper, and listen to “Double Rainbow” until we were both exhausted.
It was one of the best times of my life, even though it was also one of the hardest. All of this occurred in the years after my divorce, and these memories are some of the last I had when seeing my daughter was a regular occurrence in my life. Now it’s mostly phone calls and Face Time, but those moments built a lasting impression on me so strongly that I could feel their impact on me even as they were happening. I knew they were special. I knew that I would miss them when they were gone. I enjoyed them while I had them. Those memories help me look back at that time in my life with joy, and it was because my daughter and I found a game that we could both enjoy together. I think that’s one of the best things people can hope for: finding mutual interests and bonding over them.