This is the only puzzle that I've done with my husband. And he wasn't even my husband or boyfriend when it was done. He was my coworker and a man I had a fond affection for.
It was twenty years ago before Christmas. I built this 500 pc Guild puzzle and took one piece out of the barn and sent it to the man who is now my husband. We were co-workers at the time, and he had recently been moved three hours north of me to Edmonton. I was still in Calgary. I don't remember the instructions I gave him with the puzzle piece. It was just a teaser of sorts.
The plan was to spend Christmas at my parents farm and since I had no vehicle, I took the Greyhound bus to Edmonton and Mom and Dad and my Oma picked me up at the bus station. I remember phoning Manfred from the bus station to see if he was home. I told him I had a Christmas present for him. He confirmed his availability and gave me his address. When my parents arrived to pick me up at the bus station, I told them that we had to detour to an apartment close to the Commonwealth Stadium where Manfred lived.
When we got to Manfred's apartment, I left my family in the car and went to find my co-worker. He met me by the main door in his sock feet. I asked him if he had his puzzle piece that I sent him earlier. He did and he want to get it. When he returned, I gave him the puzzle I had completed except for the last piece. He placed the red piece in the barn and it was complete. We chatted a bit and then had a moment of silence. It was the classic tension that happens between a man and a woman who have been dodging their feelings for so long. We looked at each other in our matching white denim shirts from work. We were part of something that brought us together, but not all the way together. The rest was up to us. In a quick moment without thinking too much about it. I put my arms around him. We held on to each other with what seemed an eternal moment, but was probably only thirty seconds to a minute. We didn't kiss. We let go of each other and the first words out of my mouth. "You have to come meet my parents."
Manfred and I had worked in the same building for three years, but every time my parents came for a visit, he was absent. He was the lead salesman and was often out of the office. It had never worked out to introduce my parents to my friend. But that night, it seemed like the time. Manfred went up to his apartment to retrieve a pair of shoes. We walked back to the car to what was an irreplaceable moment in our history. Manfred met my parents and my Oma. I still remember watching my Dad and Manfred kibitz on the front lawn of the apartment building. I took it in, not understanding how monumental that moment was. It was the only time my now husband of fourteen years had with my Dad. My dad passed away from cancer ten months before Manfred and I connected as a couple and fourteen months before we got married. Manfred also had a moment with my Oma. He spoke with her in German and thanked her for all the baking goodies I had passed along to him. I didn't hear the conversation in German. I didn't realize then that the man I would one day marry was fluent in German. He only spoke German to Oma out of my earshot.
That night was pivotal in our relationship. That hug broke a barrier where we were able to admit our feelings for each other. A lot of water would still go under the bridge before we would give those feelings a home to stay. That night gave Manfred a chance to meet my Dad and Oma, both who would be gone by the time he became family. I have only one thing to thank for making that night happen. It was this puzzle.
When Manfred and I reconnected and started our relationship, he pulled out the puzzle. He had kept it safe for the four years that had passed since he got it. Yesterday, I was cleaning out my closet and I found the puzzle again. It is missing a few edge pieces, but it has a whole new significance now that I am an avid puzzler. This puzzle was the first and so far, the only puzzle that my husband and I ever did together. He only put in one piece, but one piece is enough to claim it as something we did together.
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