Moving On

I spent a good portion of today helping a dear friend pack up her kitchen for her upcoming move. Most people would say I am nuts for volunteering, but for me it was a day well spent for many reasons. I truly enjoy my friend's company and I benefited from having a few hours to chat and laugh with her. Organization is a trait that I have in abundance and to lend that to someone for a few hours is a reward as well. Also, the circumstances surrounding their move aren't the most ideal and if I can offer any assistance that can ease their burden then it is a gift to me that they allow me to share this time with them.

My own family are no strangers to moving. My husband and I have lived in 8 different houses since we have been married almost 12 years ago. Add 4 more to that if you want to include the 2 years we dated before we were wed. I have packed many a box, lugged many books, heaved my share of furniture and I would do every single move again in a heartbeat. Each home we have shared has brought us our fair share of happiness and sorrow. We have made life long friends in some places and have let go of others because of the distance that separates us. Some moves we anxiously planned and waited for while others were thrust upon us because of circumstances. Some moves have yet to happen, but we hope some day they will.

Moving can be a cleansing experience as well, both literally and figuratively. While you pack away your life you have the opportunity to purge the material objects that might be holding you back. Letting go of some memories is the only way to move forward so that you may make new ones. Moving away can also take you out of situations or away from people that aren't good for you. You might not even realize that those things are toxic until you gain the distance to see a bit clearer. In fact, I know there is one move we made that I can honestly tell you saved my marriage. If we would of stayed I am not sure we would of survived so for that move I am eternally grateful.

We are lucky that our kids are extremely adaptable to all of our nomadic travels. Most kids would put up a fight, lay on the guilt or refuse to budge from their home. Not our kids. Luckily, they look at every move as an adventure and the possibility of new friends and greater opportunities. I hope that is a reflection of my husband and I but I have always known our kids are far smarter than we are so I don't really think we can take the credit for their awesome spin on moving. More than likely, we have thrust them into enough moves that they recognize the inevitable and make the best out of it. That is one trait I hope they never grow out of.

But you can never escape the pure torture that is the actual move. The hours of labor packing the boxes. Trying to fit your entire life in a truck that is always just a smidgen too short. The frustration, exhaustion and the inevitable anger at anyone or anything that doesn't cooperate. I don't think there is a move we have done that my husband and I are actually speaking at the end of it. For a good week after a move we are usually only exchanging a terse "fine" or "whatever" with one another, and yes, that is the PG version but know that I am an R type of girl, you can imagine the rest.

So to my friend, I hope your move is smooth, your belongings escape unscathed and your family settles into your new home quickly. Whatever trauma might befall you in the next couple of days is truly temporary and together you will make it to the other side. But if all else fails, throw an R rated tantrum, have a stiff martini and call me...I know which boxes the martini glasses are packed in!