Move move move. Dance moves. Pick-up moves. Sneaky moves. Move it! Get a move on. Smooth move. And so on. And then there’s the biggest move of all – the house to house.
What would we do without family? My son-in-law and daughter, Matt and Jen; sister Cris and her husband Bill; nephew Daniel and his girlfriend Melissa; niece’s husband Jeff; my husband Mark who is always a hero; and The Bakersfield Six.
They all made it possible to get the heavy stuff over.
This is the last move for sure. I feel so out of sync, out of time, out of the real world. I can’t quite remember what I usually do with a day – all I’ve been doing for weeks now is moving. And fulfilling previous obligations, which were fun – the trip to Las Vegas for granddaughter Sarah’s soccer tournament, the Black Eyed Peas concert. And this week William came to visit.
William was a student of mine in 7th grade – six years ago? He’s twenty now. He went off to boarding school in Lugano, Switzerland, where I visited him three times, and then to college in London, where I visited once. I had to cancel last November’s trip because of the recession, so I haven’t seen William for 1 1/2 years. Naturally, when he came to Bako to spend three days with me, I didn’t unpack one single box! The time was dedicated to him. The drive to get him at Union Station in Los Angeles was beautiful. Until I got into Los Angeles itself and my navigation system went berserk. It took me all over the place and when I saw Staples Center I knew it was kaput. So I got off the freeway, pointed the car in the right direction, and made it – frazzled, but I made it. The final insult was that the CD player wouldn’t regurgitate the navigation disk until the next day, when it spit it out unasked for.
So besides those events, it’s been pack, carry, move, unpack. Over and over again. We’re rich enough to buy a beautiful house but not rich enough to hire movers. Wow, we have a lot of stuff. I’m getting rid of more and more as I unpack. I’ve taken pictures of each “discard” and put them on Kodak for my kids to see so they can claim what they want. I’m up to “Up for Grabs Album Six.” Lots going out. Whatever wasn’t adopted went to Goodwill.
We did have a lovely sky on moving day. View from the backyard.
I’ve also been taking pictures of special items as I unpack, and I’ll write on them why that item is special. Already, I look at something and wonder if it was my grandmothers or Mark’s moms. If I can’t remember, is the object still special? Things are just things ultimately. But for me, things are part of the fabric of my life. I like to look at something and recall where we bought it – which country, which vacation. I like to remember events and people. My things all say something to me. They all have stories.
When my mother-in-law died, we sorted out her possessions. I took many of them because no one else wanted them, but I knew that they all meant something to Marian. I was sad looking at the mound of collectibles, some old and chipped, and wondered if that was what a life boiled down to – the accumulation and degradation of objects. So I took her china, the Waterford, the collectibles she bought on trips all over the world. In my weird way, I honor Marian when I use these objects, display them, etc. Not in excess – a great deal did end up at Goodwill. So that’s why I’m writing on photos of my special objects, just in case my children wonder about them.
For example, Mark’s grandfather gave us this dish on our wedding day. It’s hand-painted china; don’t know if he got it somewhere or already had it – and it wasn’t quite the kind of question you could ask. “So GG, did you buy this for us or did you already have it around?” Wish I knew, but I guess all that matters is it came from GG and it’s old.
I want the kids to know that this cocktail shaker was my parents, and it witnessed many a great party with singing, dancing, food and drink.
Another strategy I’m being careful about is making things accessible. I don’t want platters stacked high, so I have to move and lift and replace when I want one. I want my tablecloths easy to find without digging through plastic bins. If I run out of room, I’m going to have to get rid of something.
The house has challenges. It’s so much bigger than the old one, yet I’m down a couple of cupboards with shelves, like the cupboard under the stairs, and I’m down bookcases. We’ll solve those problems, and indeed, they are wonderful problems to have.
Being flat-out exhausted is a wonderful problem to have also, in that we’re moving from one beautiful house to another, and that puts us in the highest echelon of families world-wide. We are not rich by any means. At least, in how America defines rich. But we have riches beyond compare when measured against the rest of the world. So my complaints are not real complaints.
BUT – I am never moving again. I’ll have to be hauled out feet-first, or taken to the old-age home if it comes to that, because this is a strenuous occupation for 63, and I don’t want to be contemplating it at 65, or 68, or 73, etc.
We have so long to go until the move is complete. The living room looks pretty good.
But my husband’s office is still a work in progress.
But we’re far enough along for me to reenter the real world. I have friends out there, on facebook, on twitter, and in person, plus family members, and I need to reconnect. I haven’t blogged for quite a while. I never feel isolated like this when we’re on vacation, but this moving is a whole different deal – bone tired, unable to think, cook, process, much less interact. When William was here, I felt like I’d been released from prison!
So that’s that. The Big Move. Underway. In progress. Step by step. And next week the cats get to go outside. Meanwhile, they have adapted well and look much like they did in the old house. Lily just stretched and is contemplating if she should really get up, or extend her afternoon nap.
