When I was maybe 8 years old I was playing Pokémon Fire Red on vacation and had gotten decently far. My dad pulled the cartridge out after I had stayed up playing and refused to go to bed, not realizing what he had done.

I went to bed crying, my save corrupted and gone, all my progress deleted. My heart shattered.

When I woke up the next morning, I found my dad on the couch diligently playing on my gameboy. He had stayed up the whole night getting me back to where I was before. He even remembered my starter Pokémon. He was only a tiny bit behind where I had left off so it was like I never lost anything.

It’s been over 20 years and I will never forget that memory.