Patiensez s'il vous plait. I come from a family who for generations searches for a home. My grandparents were exiles, unable to return to the place of their birth. This, at a time when people lived, bred, aged and died precisely where they were born. They managed but I think lived with a constant sense of loss. Saudade.
Perhaps the pieces are always, were always missing. My sister and I had a 1000 piece jigsaw puzzle of the Alps. It wasn't till we completed it that we realized that all along, three pieces had been missing. Even before the puzzle made it into the box, into shrink wrap, and onto the shelves of a store in Geneva where my father bought it and brought it home for us to work on.
Maybe you don't realize what pieces are missing till you finish the puzzle. This is horribly cruel on the part of puzzle-manufacturers. And life.
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