Moving across a country as large as the United States is a hard thing, especially when you carry the accumulated possessions of a lifetime. We are being relocated, so we have the luxury of having a van company to handle the task of actually getting stuff from New Jersey or Oregon. What isn’t factored into that, however, is the reality that just the packing alone is a huge job. Literally everything we sent has to be in some container, with the exception of furniture. Even then, every piece is individually wrapped in a mover’s blanket before it is put on the truck.
It’s surprising how much stuff we had. We probably exceeded the estimate of our stuff by a thousand pounds, according to the movers. And we didn’t actually move everything, as we discovered the next day when we turned over the apartment. It’s one of those ah-ha moments when you realize that there’s only enough room in the car for all the left-over possessions, pets and cleaning supplies if one of us remains behind. So we went through another round of throwing out perfectly useful stuff that’s simply too expensive to ship, too cheep to replace, or just plain necessary to sacrifice to the greater good of finally getting on the road.
I’d like to be able to say that this was the last such session, but the true is that we went through another one today as we were doing the final packing for our cross-country drive. The truth is, pillows are cheaper to purchase than to ship, and, well, the hotels will have them for us each night. And we can’t possibly take enough food for the trip, so it’s better to just suck it up and buy what we need along the way. I understand now why the early pioneers littered the westward trails with discarded possessions; I’m pretty sure we will be making another trip to the dumpster at some point.
But after all of this, we are finally on the road … briefly. The other thing we didn’t count on was the shear exhaustion, both the physical tiredness that comes from all of the activity around our departure, but also the emotional drain of so many goodbyes. I’m tired of fighting tears (largely unsuccessfully.) I’m leaving behind friends I’ve never fully appreciated, people who have fought for me when I had given up on myself. I’m leaving behind my mom, who has done so much beyond what any son should reasonably expect from a parent. I’m leaving behind most of my kids, and even though all but one of them are adults now, it still hurts like hot iron on skin.
I believe there’s an adventure behind all this, just waiting to unfold. But, to be honest, it doesn’t feel like an adventure. It feels like a really long drive, and I’m only three hours from home so far.