Jigsaw Puzzle

Jigsaw Puzzle

The table is lit by the overhead light. Outside the fluttering curtains the moon adds a sliver of light. At the table, a mom and daughter sit over a thousand piece puzzle.

The clock on the stove turns over another hour. Neither woman pays attention to it. Their entire focus is on finishing the puzzle and the conversation they are having.

*Are you sure?” The daughter nods.

“He is the one. Mom, I know you have concerns. He isn't, dad.”

The older woman pushes her hair out of her face where it has come loose from the ponytail it is in. She looks at her child. Her head is down as she goes through piece by piece to find the right one.

She would love to protect her against all the hurt in the world. As an adult, she has the right to make her own decisions. It isn't like she doesn't like her intended. He is a good guy, or so it seems. The problem is she thought the same about her dad.

“He doesn't seem to be.” She says after a minute. Lifting her glass, she takes a sip of her unsweetened tea.

“Here mom. These don't fit,” As they get closer to finishing the puzzle, every piece that matches is checked. They are each working on one side, “I know what to look for, what the bad things are. You don't see any, do you?”

She shakes her head, placing the puzzle pieces in separate piles. “No, but I didn't with your dad either. Not until after we were married.”

“I get it mom. I do but I just can't live in fear. The past has to be left there. I need to live in the future. You understand that right?”

“I do of course. I want you to live happily. He makes you happy. I see that.”

She reaches across the table and touches her hand. “You just worry.”

Her mom nods. “Yes. I’m sorry.”

“Don't be, mom. Please. I love that you worry about me. That is what you are supposed to do right?”

Her mom laughs. “It is. You will see,” her face lights some at this thought, “grandbabies. That is something.”

She laughs with her. “True. Give us a bit of time.”

“If I must.”

Their laughter becomes hysterical. It is the lateness of the hour. The stove clock ticks over to 2:30 am.

As their laughter dies down and becomes helpless hiccups, they struggle to catch their breath. “Goodness, it is near 3am.”

Her daughter looks at the clock behind them. “Wow” They look down at the puzzle and how few pieces are still needed to be placed.

“Well, shall we finish or wait until tomorrow.”

“I say, we finish it. It shouldn't take more than an hour.”

“Alright let's.” The mom stands and pours them more tea, sweet for her daughter.

“Alright.” She takes a sip and then another. Her attention turns back towards the puzzle.

They work silently for a while,broken only by the moving puzzle pieces and their yawns.

“Who will I do puzzles with when you are married?” She breaks the silence.

Her daughter bites her lip. “I can come over a few nights a week.”

“No my darling, you can't. You are forming your own family with him. Even before you have children, you and he are going to be a family. Your priority will be each other. It has to be this way.”

“But mom, you are…” Was it the lateness of the hour or the strong emotions, both? Whatever it was, they are soon both crying. They move so they can hold each other.

“I will always be. That won't change. You will always be my baby girl.”

“Mom, what if I can't do it? What if I suck at being a wife?”

She hugs her close. “My darling, you won't. You have such an open heart and love him dearly. You will make an awesome wife.”

If she believes it, then it is true. “I will still miss this.”

“Me too. But seeing you grow into such an excellent woman makes me so proud. You will live a wonderful life. I just know it.”

The final pieces fall into place. They look at each other before her mom slowly fades away. She sits alone, tears dripping down her face. Whenever she works on a puzzle, it seems her mom is as close as the hairs on her arm.

Ten years ago they worked on the last one they would ever do together. She lost her battle with cancer a week after her wedding. Her eyes close at remembering.

“You will be okay, my darling. You have each other now.”

“I need you! How am I to do this without you?”

“One second at a time. I will be looking down on you. I love you and am so proud of you.”

“I love you mom.” She cries against her holding her hand until it turns slack on hers. Her husband held her the day she was buried.

“Mommy,” She wipes her eyes before turning to her daughter, “ready for bed.” she states.

“I am coming honey.”

She was born 18 months after her wedding. They named her after her grandma. Her brother came two years later. Another girl they thought would complete their family but two years after her birth, she just discovered she was pregnant again.

She stumbles up and heads towards the children’s room to tuck them in.

“Mommy, what's wrong?” She can hide nothing from her eldest, just like she couldn't with her namesake grandmother.

“It is okay Rosie. I was just thinking about Grandma.”

“Oh, I can do puzzles with you if you like.” Her eight year old offers.

“We will have to do that,” She hugs her, “I would love that a lot.”

“Okay mommy.”

She tucks them in kneeling beside them in turn to hear their prayers. Her husband watches from the doorway, a smile on his face.

She turns and is wrapped up in his arms after. He wipes under her eyes

, removing the tears. Her mom was right. They do have each other and she is an excellent mom and wife.