Saturday 21 November 2020

RIP Jim Irvine

My father died on 7 November. He deteriorated quickly after contracting COVID. The blow has been enormous and I don't think we've fully come to terms with it. I am now back at my childhood home looking after my mother as she recovers from COVID.

One of the things that lays me low when I go around the house is seeing projects that he'd started but won't finish, various things in different stages of planning, preparation, or anticipation. This is a silly thing to get upset about in a way: what's life without something to look forward to? I'm glad he had things he was looking forward to and planning right until the end. But every day I go past the table where he had been re-basing some of his old airfix napoleonics just days before he got sick, unable to pack up the stuff, unable to process it.


Gaming was a hobby my dad and I had in parallel. We had other interests in common that we enjoyed together - in particular, we shared a love of music, and I have many happy memories of traditional music sessions together, time spent in his company drinking a few pints and singing away. But funnily enough, though we both were interested in gaming, that wasn't really something that we ever did together. We would chat about it on the phone, check in on one another's projects and work in progress. He had a long running Friday RPG session that had become almost a religious obligation. He had had a Napoleonic army (British) since long before I was born and every now and again would open up the box files where it was kept, make some additions and update his records. Just a month or so ago he had painted up some Scots Greys. He had got out some of the many reference books he owned and was planning on painting more in the months ahead.


The army itself had lived in box files for many years, but he had only recently set most of it up on shelves. It's a magnificent enough sight.


One of the peculiarities of our never having played wargames together all that much is that he actually had a Warhammer Fantasy Battle army he'd painted up around the time I first got into the hobby - a rather striking Brettonian army based on the figures in the 5th edition box. (My mate Paul had used the Lizardmen and sold him the Brets)



I especially like the spearmen that he converted by giving some of the monopose plastic archers toothpicks.


He enjoyed collecting the army and encouraging me in my hobby - even painting up Prince Imrik on a Dragon as a birthday present for me.


But he was content to just share the interest with me, very rarely taking up invitations to join in battles. I think he would have loved some of the oldhammer stuff - in fact, it was him who stumbled on some of the oldhammer stuff on the internet and pointed me towards it - but he was happy enough for us to game in separate worlds. This might strike some as obtuse, but as I say, we had other things we did together, and I guess the games were his own place of retreat.

The one exception to this was a wonderful year when I was in 6th form, and his RPG group decided to have a Necromunda campaign. Peering through the crowded underhive to try and pick out one of his House Cawdor gang - the heavy MacDuff, or Wee Eck who rose up through the ranks from a juve to a hardened ganger - will long live in my memory.


Going through his collection of books and his leadpile (much of which he inherited from friends who had passed away), I can't help but think of the games that won't be played now. Perhaps I should focus on what gave him pleasure: look forward to the next game, role up the next character, enjoy planning future projects. But what can I say? I miss him terribly.

13 comments:

  1. A beautiful post . My condolences to you and your family.

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  2. It is indeed a beautiful passion to share! Beautiful post. Sincere condolences to you. I hope your mother will recover soon.

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    1. Thank you, I hope so too. I think she's still in shock, mostly.

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  3. My dear friend, grief is a psin that never goes away. I miss my parents every single day, mainly having someone to ask advice of. Over time you learn to cope with that pain and longing and now I find it cathartic and, in a very strange way comforting.

    I'm sure your Dad was as proud of you as yoh were of him, it comes across beautifully and wistfully in your memories.

    My suggestion? Give that Bretonian army an airing at BOYL next year, that way he'll be in attendence through you. I think it would be a mighty fine sight to see.

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    1. It's been a real discovery, I hadn't realised how many people my dad had impacted positively - often through the kindness shown in the course of his hobbies and interests, rather than any grand gestures. He could be very jolly when the occasion was right, but much of the time he was very withdrawn and so a lot of what he'd done we hadn't quite realised.

      Anyway, I think your suggestion is a marvellous one, I'd love to make use of them and also it would be really nice to have an army ready for people to use who might want to get involved in a BOYL battle but don't have their own army yet.

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    2. I reckon that would be a perfect use and even though I never met him I reckon that would give him a massive smile.

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  4. My sincere condolences. This is a lovely post and a great memorial to your Dad. To continue playing with his armies, and adding to them would be a great way of somehow playing together. What is remembered never dies.
    Best regards Mike

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    1. I agree, right now it's hard but in time I think having that link through the armies will bring me joy.

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  5. My sincere condolences. Having lost my dad at a rather young age (now almost 25 years ago), I can sympathize with many of your thoughts and feelings.
    I like to think we are only guardians of our toy soldiers. We never really own them, but pass them on to the next generation to fight in another series of campaigns and battles.

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    1. Thank you for your condolences. I agree with the sentiment, and somehow it makes me feel better to think of the toy soldiers in this way, rather than as some kind of grave goods.

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  6. I'm not crying...You're Crying!!! So sorry for your loss...

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    1. Thank you. I think you're an archaeologist by trade? Seems to be one of the main things wargamers have in common; he was a archaeologist too, got into it as a mature student and dug alongside Nigel Stillman at Crickley Hill, in fact.

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