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I love making jigsaws and still remember my first one. It came from Santa and on the box was a picture of a family round the fire opening presents, Christmas tree in the background all bright lights and shiny decorations. Children happy, adults smiling and a table full of good food waiting to be eaten when they finished opening their presents.
I was eight, living in care and I had not seen my family since I was seven. Blurred memories still haunt me today. Christmas pulls you back there even if you try to forget. There were three of us and we were scattered. At eight it felt like forever.
It lasted for ten years.
I saw my family sometimes but only for short visits - all together in a health centre with Social Workers and sometimes my mother, but not always.
I moved on from care into emergency homeless accommodation - then longer-term emergency accommodation until I eventually came to Daisyhouse. I brought my memories and my hopes with me and hoped I would find the space to sort them out and try to put together the pieces of my real life jigsaw and make a good picture.
I am working on it with the help of good people who looked at me and saw the man I could be. They took me - warts and all and helped me put more of the jigsaw in place.
There is a lot more of the picture to make but the outline is much clearer in my head. I am in full time education now, I am looking after my health. My family are back in my life and I am learning how to deal with the past so that I can sustain myself in the future. I look forward more to Christmas now and to the New Year and to life. It may not be the same as the picture on my first jigsaw, but it will be what I make it and I will keep on putting it together.
