My mom's latest obsession is jigsaw puzzles. They keep her mind occupied and present the detail-oriented challenge that she always seems to enjoy.
I hate them. They're tedious and time-consuming. They're not terribly exciting, and one too many times I've worked and worked only to find a piece missing. And then, all I can think of is that missing piece. I forget about all the hard work and effort I spent on the other 999 pieces and feel like a failure for the one tiny hole left in the picture. Even in the completed work, I manage only to see the cracks and lines and rough edges. I never take the moment to just enjoy its wholeness.
In the end, no matter how beautiful the image or how well connected all the parts might be, the puzzle must go back into the box. And as it crumbles, I catch my breath at how easily and quickly all that work is undone.