A year ago yesterday, my friend Maureen passed away unexpectedly.

We didn’t get to see each other much, given that I live in CT and she lived in North Carolina. But we chatted online when life allowed, and it was always a treat when I would see one of her texts or posts pop up.

Mo and I bonded over bad movies, a shared love of writing and performing, and Brak’s “I Love Beans” song from Cartoon Planet.

And she was forever baffled and interested by the fact that my day job is puzzles.

She was immensely supportive and creative, encouraging me in all my endeavors (successful or not), and every year at Christmastime, she would send something she thought would inspire my creativity.

One year it was rubber ducks to decorate, complete with markers AND clip-on accessories like hats and mustaches.

The Christmas before she died, she sent me a puzzle box.

It has four simple wooden mechanical puzzles, including a fit-the-pieces-in-the-box puzzle and a star puzzle.

I rarely take them apart and reassemble them, since I already know the technique behind each. But I often find myself handling them, reflexively rolling one in my hand or running a finger along the edge as I’m working on something.

I’m sure these would work marvelously as fidget objects. I use them to idly engage myself while processing things. I find it more inspiring than simply staring at the computer screen or the blank page while I’m puzzling.

(There’s an IT person at my office who does the same with a Slinky while he’s coding or unraveling a programming issue.)

So many puzzles, however enjoyable, are just brief (or extended) bits of fun. I solve them, and put them aside, happy to have challenged myself but ready for the next a-ha moment.

Unlike all those, this puzzle set sits on my desk, patiently waiting for the next moment when I’m flummoxed or my editing stalls out. Just like my friend, they’re ready to help me out of the next jam.

A little piece of wooden inspiration in the palm of my hand.

Thank you for that gift, Mo.

---

Do you have a puzzle or a game you associate with a loved one? Did a loved one introduce you to the world of puzzles and games? I would love to hear your story, if you’d care to share.