Moving Day is Fun - Said No One Ever

I GET IT!  I really do.  "Why don't you hire someone to pack for your move?" they said.  "I can do it myself like I always have!" said I.  What I did not take into account was in the 12 years since our last move, we have collected more and as hard as it is to believe, we are now 12 years older.  So......although I understand why people hire help I don't know if I could.  Too many decisions to make along the way.

I really don't feel my 'age', whatever that means.  And in the normal course of events, I don't feel any older.  But carrying over 100 boxes up a long flight of stairs has a way of making you feel those aging joints.  After a couple weeks of packing and purging, I realized I had built muscles.  That felt great.  Considering I will now be walking up and down stairs several times a day and also carrying the dogs (their legs are too short and they are too old to make it up by themselves) I will hopefully maintain some of those newly built muscles. 

It took two weeks to pack and three to unpack.  There were six or seven trips to the dump and a few to the thrift store.  Saying goodbye to things I had not used for many years was a good feeling - even though there was a twinge of sadness once in a while.  It was difficult putting things in storage that my son had given me.  But I no longer needed the daily reminder that he is no longer in my life.  Not having things in my vision on a regular basis will help ease the pain in the long run.

My business was put on hold.  Actually, my life was!  I certainly tried to stay on top of the daily routine of emails, phone calls and my zillion jobs - basically, it was still put on hold.

I am extremely glad that I stayed in the 'old' house to clean while the movers unloaded at the new one.  Although the moving company had terrific reviews, I later found out that the owners had recently gone through some heavy personal and emotional issues and turned to alcohol.  They arrived hung over and too tired to move.  We have heavy furniture.  A piano.  Oak bedroom furniture.  A cedar cabinet that is six feet high.  I held my breath and didn't watch.

Later, I wondered how my large plants got crushed as they were standing up in the van.  Apparently, the movers thought the plants were a good place to put sofa cushions on top!

 

When they arrived at the new residence, my husband was sergeant major.  He kept yelling for them to wipe their feet because the driveway is not complete yet.  It was raining.  The mud, gravel, and sand were everywhere. 

The house was not quite ready for residency which meant that on MOVING DAY there were 13 construction workers doing finishing touches, three guys from the moving company, hubby, and friends.  It was like a moving party except it was not fun.











Our first guests were daughter Rochelle and kiddos.  What a delight to have them come for a visit.  Rochelle asked me several times if she could help with the move for a few days.  But I kept insisting that when she came for a visit I wanted her to be able to relax, not work.  It was nice to have everything done when they were here and what fun we had - especially with all the new places to play hide and seek!

 




















Two-year-old Brie is a force to be reckoned with.  Like most toddlers, she has boundless energy.  As in the past, my greatest delight is to watch her six-year-old brother interact with her.  He is so responsible and caring.  Brie will tease him, even throw the occasional toy at him to see what he will do.  He 'corrects' her gently and explains that this is not acceptable behavior.  What six-year-old does that!  

Brie is fearless.  She got up on the quad and started it.  Fortunately, her legs were not long enough to reach the pedals but she figured out how to start it just by observation.   
















 


They loved the new bathtub and with it being deep the splashing stayed IN the tub.










Even though most of the work is done, I wonder how long it takes to actually feeling settled.  I wander around my kitchen aimlessly looking for stuff.  As organized as I think I am, when friends helped me organize the kitchen, it may take months before I find what I am looking for.  Wouldn't have it any other way.  What an adventure!  

This is a Fly on the Wall post where bloggers share their adventures monthly.  Have a buzz around and be a fly on the wall at these awesome blogger's homes:

Baking In A Tornado
Menopausal Mother
Bookworm in the Kitchen
Spatulas on Parade
The Bergham Chronicles

                                                                                                                  

Is It Easy For You to Let Go?

Two men in a big truck took away 50 years of memories today.  Only one tear found its way down my cheek but my heart grieved in a way that was foreign to me.  I had not experienced it before.   A variety of memories were in that truck that will no longer be tangible.  Some had been kept for no reason.  Others were kept hoping it would stop the pain of loss.  But tangible memories often make the pain worse, especially if you look at them every day.

I no longer needed to know what grade I received in third-grade arithmetic.  I suck at math now but got straight A's in Advanced Math in high school.  I noted my D in Health class which made me laugh.  I remember that D.  It was because I forgot my notebook too many times. For the past 35 years, I have been a Certified Health Coach and it is one subject I am passionate about.

I didn't need to keep the hundreds of photographs from umpteen years that I will never look at again.  The ones wanted are in albums, which I kept.

I didn't need the boxes of dishes or small kitchen appliances I never use and someone else might enjoy.

I no longer have a VCR or cassette deck but held onto dozens of tapes.  Why?

As I put each crystal ornament my son had given me into a box I wanted to scream "Stop, bring them back!"  But I bit my tongue and cried silently.  I will never forget the moments when he gave them to me.  He was so proud that he had found the perfect one for each occasion to give his mommy.  I cherished them and always will.  They went into a box labeled "retired" and I hope to bring them out to show his children...... when he returns to us.

After he left us six years ago, I have run through the gamut of emotions a zillion times. I no longer need to see those tangibles to remind me of how much I love him.  How much he once loved us.  

This does not mean that I choose to forget him or that I have given up hope.  Not for one second.  It only means I will not have the stabbing pain in my heart when I see those trinkets in my bathroom or bedroom.


As the men closed the door of the truck and drove away and I pivoted on my heel to go into the house, my heart pivoted as well.  It is a new day.  A new era.  New memories will be made.  I have the pictures my grandbabies recently painted for me.  Those I will hang on the refrigerator and smile every time I see them.  It is a new day.   A new era.  

Gramma Time 

Speaking of the grands...they were here for a couple days this month. Were my kids this much fun?  YES!  What is different is that I don't have to discipline if it is needed.  Mom is there to handle that department and it makes me look like the good guy.  All. The. Time.

Is Moving As Much Fun as They Claim?

We haven't moved in 12 years and as organized as my home is, I was surprised at how much stuff I am disposing of.   I keep my closets and drawers free of clutter and purge regularly.  BUT it is the stuff I have kept forever stored in boxes that I took the time to sort through and toss.  I was able to convert more than a dozen large boxes to two small ones.  What a feeling of accomplishment.

A lot of people pack their breakables in newspapers but I pack them in paper towels which can be reused in my new kitchen.  Then nothing has to be cleaned when I arrive.  

With this move, I have learned not to ask my husband if he wants to keep clothes he has not worn in decades.  His answer is always a resounding "YES" so THIS time, I am not asking!  Will I be sorry?  Maybe.  Am I worried?  What do you think?

One Woman - Fearless

This weekend I am traveling to an award ceremony in another city where I am the recipient of an award I did not even know existed before.  Someone anonymously nominated me for the award which I will treasure forever.  It is the global One Woman - Fearless award given to women who let go of their fears to live their dreams; those who overcame much and never quit.  My daughter will be with me and I am sure it is a day that will be ingrained in my heart forever.  

This is my monthly Fly on the Wall post and I hope you can take time to enjoy the other blogger's posts in this challenge

Baking In A Tornado

Menopausal Mother 

Bookworm in the Kitchen

Spatulas on Parade 

Go Mama O   

                                                                                                     

Have You Ever Considered Trying Out for the Olympics?

Have you ever dreamed of being in the Olympics?  Can you imagine the world cheering you on while you rush towards the finish line?

I was asked this question and laughed out loud.  I don't even watch sports on TV.  Actually, that's not true.  Last year I watched the Super Bowl for the first time in my life.  Surprisingly I enjoyed it.  Will I ever do it again?  I doubt it.  My husband watches a sports event once or twice a year which I am thankful for otherwise, I might have to learn to enjoy it.

But I was asked a direct question which means I need to answer it honestly.  There were two sports I aced in high school.  One was basketball.  I was the star player for the Mackenzie Stags.  I enjoyed the rush and wanted to make my team proud.  It was an easy feat to make a free throw with my eyes closed or facing the opposite direction.  Now, I would be throwing air balls and an embarrassment to any team.  Memories are a good thing.

Even more than basketball, I could beat anyone of any gender on the track.  Several times I had boys approach me wanting to bet they could beat me.  I took those bets and always won.  They were not pleased and the language -- well, it wasn't fitting for high school kids back in that day.  

I almost ran a full block without stopping last week.  I was proud of myself.  WHAT HAPPENED?  I take my dogs for a power walk every day but running -- a lost art.

I gave my kids every opportunity to try any sports activity they wanted to and was surprised that my son really didn't enjoy any of them -- unless paintball is considered a sport.  My daughter was a natural for dancing classes of several varieties and I thoroughly enjoyed watching her perform.  But that is an art -- not a sport. Not growing up with sports watched in the home probably had a lot to do with it.  

If asked what sport I actually do enjoy watching, it would be boxing.  When I found out my daughter put her son, William, in boxing last year, I was thrilled.  I attended one of his classes; he did Gramma proud!  Sportsmanship can be taught in many ways and when you experience your grandson displaying it, you know his parents did it right.

Six-year-old William was partnered with a 12-year-old boy while running laps at his boxing class.  His mom was shouting as all moms do "Run, William, run!"  Loud enough so that the entire gymnasium could hear, he shouted back, "I'm running slow because Jason (his partner) always loses and I want him to win this time!"  Gramma cried.

Have you ever dreamed of being an Olympic athlete?  What would your sport be?

This post is a Secret Subject Swap with other bloggers who are asked unique questions.  Check them out - I think you will enjoy each one.  My question was asked by a fellow blogger who is also a special friend of mine - Rena from Blogging 911.

Baking In A Tornado                           

Cognitive Script                         

The Lieber Family Blog              

The Bergham Chronicles                        

Southern Belle Charm                         

The Blogging 911                            

My Brand of Crazy                          

Climaxed                                   

Part-Time Working Hockey Mom                            

What Do You Think About the Most - Your Future or Your Past

A new year is usually the time we reflect on our past.  It is quite normal to wonder what would have been different if you had or not done something.  If the past year was traumatic, we might wonder what would have happened if we had made a different decision.

This is a blogging challenge called Secret Subject Swap and I was asked to answer this question posted by Minette at Southern Belle Charm:  If you could go back 20 years for one hour and change the rest of your life, what would you change and why?

This is NOT the End of Your Story

As beautiful as the Christmas season is, it can be very difficult for many people to enjoy.  There are those of us who have lost someone close, perhaps a family member or dear friend.  It has been said that the 'first' Christmas after such a loss is especially challenging.  There are so many triggers to the memory of that loss.  

But we pick ourselves up off the ground and know that each year it will be a bit easier.  Or is it?  For some, it is still a serious emotional struggle.  They may hide it well and few people know or understand the pain of that loss.  When my son and his family walked away from our family five years ago, I maintained an attitude of hope that he would return before the year-end.  I will continue to maintain that attitude although sometimes that thread of hope gets thinner - I still hang on.  I will never give up.  I know it is not the end of the story.

What that loss has done is make me more empathetic to those who have lost much more than I have.  We cannot measure the bereavement for anyone other than ourselves because each of us process pain differently.  

But the season of Christmas is a reminder that we have much to be thankful for, to be joyful and enjoy the good memories and new ones we are about to make.

What memories we will make this
Christmas with these precious ones