The puzzle has been coming together nicely. I found the 3 extra pieces along the bottom and had nearly finished the top half and the right side. We were on easy street. This morning I came upstairs to find the entire puzzle on the floor. Wasn’t the dog with us last night? I ask Amy, “Did you do this?” and she gleefully admits to it. I’m too stunned to know how to respond but begin by setting her in timeout, then almost immediately free her, called her “mean” which was terribly wrong, and told her that Mom would have to get her breakfast but gave in when she started yelling down the stairs to the sleeping mother and baby.
I feel empty because of it. I supposed I should be thankful as I had become to entranced with the puzzle. To what avail? A pointless exercise, although mentally stimulating but tangible representative of completion. It was something I was capable of finishing. It began as time together with my wife but she abandoned the puzzle when I became obsessed.
The experience is very representative of my life. Mis-directed energies lead to unfinished projects with missing critical pieces while someone that needs attention feels neglected. Another vaccuum gets added to my chest. A void that can’t be filled. I feel uncomplete[sic], lacking of spirit, and somehow less of a man. No, it’s more than the puzzle. The puzzle is simply one piece.
Choices now have to be made. Do I redo the work with an end result of spending twice as long and twice the effort or do I let it go. And no, that sentence should not end with a question mark.
It is time to hug Amy and tell her I forgive her and will be a better dad.