A video game once seen as entertainment has become a quiet lifeline in the aftermath of grief.
Loss and the Search for Meaning
Mary was more than a mother to the writer’s then-boyfriend. She became a maternal figure during a time of family instability.
For months, the writer accompanied her on weekly grocery runs. Stops at Marshall’s and Dollar Tree became routine. Mary studied prices with care, sharing tips on deals.
Each trip ended with a late-afternoon stop at a Vietnamese restaurant. There, she served a warm bowl of beef pho. She’d share what she planned to cook for dinner. The writer was always welcome to join.
In these ordinary moments, the writer felt cared for—without pressure or obligation. Mary stopped time for them both.
After Her Passing, a Grief That Haunted
After living with cancer for 14 months, Mary passed in November. The writer spent nearly every day of her illness by her side.
Yet, in the months that followed, the writer questioned whether they had truly cherished her. Did they hug her enough? Did they tell her how much she meant?
These questions haunted them. The writer tried grief rituals: attending funerals, speaking with death doulas, and reading self-help content on spirituality.
But the advice felt abstract. Without Mary, the writer struggled to define their own purpose.
The Role of Pokémon Pokopia
It wasn’t religion that helped. It was Pokémon Pokopia.
Released in March, Pokopia is a new social simulation game in the ‘cozy’ genre—known for gentle visuals and easy missions. It features Ditto, a purple blob Pokémon that mimics its human trainer.
Ditto awakens in a cave. It sees a world of parched earth and litter. It meets Squirtle, the only other survivor. Squirtle teaches Ditto to spray water, restoring soil and bringing life back.
As the story unfolds, the player’s mission is to rebuild a post-apocalyptic world. The unfinished railroad tracks and cracked steps no longer look like disasters—they become solvable problems.
Emotional Resonance in Gameplay
As the writer built habitats, new Pokémon emerged. A Charmander appeared in tall grass. A Cubone spawned from a gravesite, surrounded by wildflowers.
Each new Pokémon reacted with excitement. They scampered to greet others. In the writer’s mind, they thanked Ditto for bringing them back.
Some Pokémon held onto items—like oversized glasses on a Tangrowth. These details suggest a trainer’s memory. Others noted Ditto’s human-like form: ‘You look like your human!’
These interactions mirrored the writer’s own grief. Ditto, like the writer, was piecing together where its trainer had gone.
Scientific Support for Gaming and Grief
Research backs the idea that video games can help process loss. In 2023, scholars Karam Eum and Young Yim Doh studied bereaved adults playing games with loss themes.
Participants played two games for a week and kept diaries. They noted scenes that moved them. While the games evoked sadness, they also recalled positive memories from before and after loss.
These memories—like a funny conversation or a shared moment—helped rebuild emotional connection.
How the Game Became a Healing Tool
Now, the writer sees Mary in pink rose bouquets at grocery stores. They smell her in the fragrant bone broth from a neighbor’s unit.
On heavy days, the writer is startled by small joys: a neighbor asking for help, a cat mewing at the window. These moments pull them out of detachment.
They now associate Mary with berry trees in Pokopia. When watering one, they remember how Mary once nurtured others.
When clearing a path for an aquatic Pokémon, they think of Mary’s selfless care for her friends and family.
Even though the game has sad undertones, it offers positive quests. It encourages players to believe in rebuilding a meaningful world—honoring those who shaped them.
It’s a reminder: grief can feel isolating, but it’s a shared human experience. A video game can help remind us of the truth—love remains, even when someone leaves.
When the writer feels drifting into deep grief, they pick up their Nintendo Switch. They check on their Ditto. Then, they build a new home for their Pokémon—just as Mary once did for them.
This story is not about gaming as therapy. It’s about how a simple game helped a person reframe their grief—and find purpose again.
For those navigating loss, it’s a quiet testament: sometimes, healing begins with a small act of care—like watering a tree or building a home.
- Source: Greater Good, UC Berkeley
- Research: Karam Eum and Young Yim Doh (2023), Frontiers in Psychology
Sources & further reading
Featured image: Contemplation .jpg by Fibe101, CC BY-SA 4.0, via Wikimedia Commons. Image source · License
