My first marriage, to a dreamer I call The Seeker, was doomed from the moment he crashed at the Hippie House where I was renting a room. He proposed to me within four months; we were married in just over a year. Soon after our first wedding anniversary, he left me, pressing into my hands a book my professor wrote about poetry in Vietnam that I have never had the heart to read. It took me years to collect the pieces of my fractured self. But as I reflect on it, all these years later, I can remember the beautiful moments, as well.
Please click on the image below to complete the puzzle I created about one such moment.
For the visually impaired: the image is of a double rainbow over green and gold fields with a row of low, blue mountains in the distant background. At the bottom of the image is the following text: "My ex-husband and I saw a double rainbow on our aimless honeymoon trip to Canada. As we stood on the wet road, gazing in awe, I had no idea he would later choose his mental illness over me. I did not know I could not fix him. I was filled with hope."
The image, incidentally, did not come from that honeymoon, since we did not, incredibly, take any photos during our journey up the Mississippi from Missouri to Canada (I was between cameras). Instead, this photo comes from a more recent and more auspicious event, taken in May 2011 out a restaurant window where I was eating with my beloved sister, her husband, and some friends. My sister had just learned she was pregnant with her daughter.
For those who would like to view the completed image without doing the puzzle, I've uploaded the completed image.