This page is for spinning yarns

In recent years my father has become fond of putting together puzzles. I like to tell people I meet his days of retirement are quiet and generally happy. They are the peaceful settling after a long and arduous career supporting his family, as well as others around him in need. He now seems to be of want of little, and genuinely appreciates hearing of others’ well-being.  

He and I didn’t always get along well. We had our fair share of tenuous moments in my early adulthood and particularly throughout COVID. At many points, I was intensely preoccupied with politics, immediacies and contemporary social issues. He on the other hand, became focused narrowly on gardening, cooking, enjoying nature, watching sports and putting together puzzles.     

I remember one visit a few years back, he and I ran into a bit of tension on a night of us having a bit too much excellent local wine from his cellar. I was upset and took a walk in the neighborhood that evening to smoke a cigar away from the house. I figured the smell would ruin his neighbors’ evenings to make for company with ours. I cursed the upper-middle class houses, the aging community fortunate boomers, their broken families, along with all of their media entertainment devices.

The next morning I prepared to leave. I found my father after breakfast, putting together a puzzle. I sat down and stared at the completed image on the box for several minutes. It was of charming country farm-stand next to neatly cultivated field, surrounded by grassy rolling hills, verdant forest and cozy little houses. There were people of all ages and colors – working, trading, playing and courting with one another happily. I saw in it the fading dream of many young families of my own hometown. I told my father, “This is what I want most, and it doesn’t exist here anymore”. He replied, “It doesn’t exist anywhere, its an idealized image”. We stopped at that, we were both tired and wanted peace.  

He and I then worked on the puzzle quietly for what seemed like a long time. When I had to leave, we said our goodbyes, perhaps with a bit of regret. Sometime after, I heard he finished his puzzle. I’m still working on mine. With a bit of grace, I’ll have it done by his age.

First draft 4-19-26

BSG