Jigsaw

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There is no solution to grief.
It is not a problem to be solved or a task to be completed.

It is an unfinished jigsaw. A puzzle with a piece perpetually lost.

You can still tell what the picture is, but there are details missing.
Like the sky missing a cloud or the ocean missing a wave.

It is still the sky.
It is still the ocean.
But it is quietly incomplete.

This is still life.

But it is missing a piece. A piece you will always long for.

And there is no solution to your puzzle because that piece was shaped to your jigsaw – to your life, to you – and you will never replace it.

It is irreplaceable because it was shaped uniquely by love.

So it is ok that you’ll never quite feel full again.
It’s ok to know that you’ll never feel the true satisfaction of completing the puzzle.

This is still love.

It is still life.

It is just quietly incomplete.


Jigsaw Pieces is from When I Am Gone

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Beautiful…
Reminded me of something I found on the internet about the hole in our hearts being in the shape of husband’s/wife’s/partners …that no one else will ever be able to fill :broken_heart:

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