The Puzzle

She liked to solve Sudoku puzzles, and I wanted to help where I could.

I gave her a puzzle box for her last Christmas. It was partitioned into eighty-one sections for each of the eighty-one pieces it would take to solve a Sudoku.

It came with a booklet showing the starting positions of one hundred puzzles. I would set up the puzzle when I made the morning coffee. When she woke, she would work on solving the puzzle. When she finished one, I would set up the next.

She did not finish the book, leaving us after thirty-five. The puzzle box remained where it was left when she died.

After a while, I started using the box, beginning with the first puzzle in the book. Not every day. Sometimes it sat for weeks at a time. Slowly though, I worked my way through the book. Some were difficult, and I passed them over to come back later.

Yesterday I finished the book and put the tiles away for the last time. I felt I owed her to finish what she could not, so I did.

There are other things on my to-do list. Learn to play the piano, like she started but could not finish. Read more important books like she did, not just fiction. Keep the plants from dying when I couldn’t do the same for her.

Working on the puzzle of life, one tile at a time.