Where did all the room come from (That's Philip on the couch. He showed up unexpectedly last night.)? On Wednesday, James and Jake from Arpin showed up with an 80' van and took up the block in front of the house. James had called the day before to introduce himself as "my driver." He asked if I had the house packed ready for them to pick up. Instant panic. It isn't that I've lost my sense of humor. I've just got a good case of sensory overload. I started to confusedly explain that, yes, I'd packed some things but my understanding was that they were going to pack...compassionately he interupted and told me he was just "funning" me. Sorry, James, but you don't "fun" a woman who has completely upended her life in just five weeks.
Memories of Moves Past
The last time someone moved me was in 1976 when Swiss Colony transported my meager belongings to Monroe and an apartment. I'd been on my own for 2 years. This move was different. I've spent two full weeks purging, selling, separating and packing to prepare. In each room, I sorted out what would be left, what I needed to keep in my possession, and what they could pack. Even with all my advance work, I had doubts when I looked at the van about whether they really would be able to accommodate my house in one truck.
Of course, they have moving down to a science. They came in with runners to protect my wood floors, boxes, tape, paper, and giant rolls of plastic wrap. In two days, two men went through the entire house, basement, and garage. I received high marks for organization, coffee, and pot roast. Naturally, they were men that needed to be fed.
Leinie (our dog) and I mostly watched these strong, hardworking guys gently transport my treasures from shelf to box and box to truck. I'm older now and maybe more aware of nuance than I was during the last move, but I have no recollection of the movers in Chicago taking time to say they would be "taking care of me" all the way to Monroe. No one asked "Who did the artwork?" or "How long have you lived here?"
James and Jake are from Peoria very near Chillicothe which brought to mind an old college friend, Steve Schmidt, who was a cop there. Over pot roast, James, Jake, and I talked about grain elevators and the resident Catapillar company. James is an Arpin partner who owns his own "tractor." He was far more than brute strength — the consummate businessman. James understood that he transports much more than things--he disassembles history and moves memories. He obviously took the responsibility very seriously and I appreciated that.
I was amazed to see finished hardwood floors in the trailor and noted how meticulously everything was kept.
There wasn't a spot of dirt anywhere. In the end, what seemed to me an endless trail of 'things" amounted to 321 pieces and filled only a third of the trailor. I took some comfort in knowing that my belongings alone would be transported on this trip.
Both James and Jake took pride in finishing a day early. I signed a stack of papers and James gave me a big smile and said, "See you next Tuesday in your Ohio home."
Seeing the house empty reminded me of how much work has been put into it over 21 years. I was a little confused that I was not more emotional. I was briefly overcome last week when I started to remove things from rooms, but the truth is -- I've been emotionally preparing for this since I finished my phd two years ago. My biggest concern is leaving Thomas in this house that is but isn't his home any more. I've tried to make that easier by leaving a few things in my room (which will become his) and the common areas of the house. Thomas has been pretty quiet about everything except for commenting that the house will seem bare at Christmas without the garland and decorations. I've left a box of lights and bulbs and told him I will help decorate at Christmas. Kathy Yih reminded me some time ago that when we bought the house in McFarland I told her it was going to be a wonderful Christmas house--and it has been. There were 20 or 21 caroling parties held in it and, at least, 12 - 10' trees--one of which required emergency help from Kathy and Norb Krusiec when the bruiser toppled over because of a whimpy stand. Local friend, Sue Ossman, stopped by the sale last week and told me that moving was a heck of a way to get out of the holiday party.
Every once in a while, I think ahead to Christmas at Muchmore Road. There is no vaulted ceiling for a tall tree but I'm thinking about the bay window in the dining room or the cozy studio room with french doors as possible homes for this year's tree. The days of ten footers are past, however, I'm hoping that the boys will be out for Thanksgiving and we will still pick out a tree together.
But that's months away. Right now I'm trying to enjoy the rituals of leave taking. Last night Judy and Bob Ganch stopped out. Judy and I worked together on the CHESS research project at the UW. It was a wonderful surprise to welcome them into my empty living room and catch up on the change.
Later, I felt a little like Isaak Dineson 
as she prepared to leave her home in Africa. I sat in my empty office in front of the fireplace with candles lit, by a card table, in a folding chairs with a Leinenkugel in hand. I thought about how awful that room was when we moved in and ran a mental inventory of everything we changed. In recent years, I've been fixated on all the things in the house that needed repair. I've forgotten just how many great changes have been made since we moved in.
as she prepared to leave her home in Africa. I sat in my empty office in front of the fireplace with candles lit, by a card table, in a folding chairs with a Leinenkugel in hand. I thought about how awful that room was when we moved in and ran a mental inventory of everything we changed. In recent years, I've been fixated on all the things in the house that needed repair. I've forgotten just how many great changes have been made since we moved in.My friend from hockey mom days, Betty Osterhaus,
came by on her way to a 50th birthday party. Armed with a bottle of wine and some chocolate, we sat at the card table and caught up. She's been dealing with big changes in her own life and shared her excitement about working with the Salvation Army. I liked that our conversation spent little time on the past and more on a hopeful future. The night ended using my couch as a bed and eating Chinese food and watching "Bruce Almighty" with Thomas.
Today I will find out if there are any glitches in my Monday closing and pull my downpayment together. I feel like the Apollo 13 team. The Lexington house is my lunar module. I'm ready to cut it free and thank it for it's service.
You know for a couple of years now you and I have been mastering the art of simplicity. You, my friend, have succeeded. I, on the other hand, need to follow closer attention to your footsteps.
ReplyDeleteThis is more than just the trite "new Beginnings" this is a new journey, a new path,with a lightened load of only that which you truly love and need.
You have cleared the "space" for SO MUCH MORE to come into your life.
I can't wait to hear how this journey progresses. LOVE YA, :)B
I think maybe it was the purging and letting go of things that has relieved some of the grief I expected on leaving. I also noticed that there wasn't that many things that I had bought twice because I didn't know where they were--except art supplies. In the end, I didn't feel bad about replacing oil paint (my old tubes were in bad shape) because I felt like I deserved a few new things and because I gave some of it away to people who are starting and trying it out. There will be more to delete at the new house, but I'm in the groove now. I know what I have.
ReplyDelete