Moving on...

“The moving finger writes, and having

written moves on.  Nor all thy

piety nor all thy wit, can

cancel half a line of it.”

Omar Khayyam – The Rubaiyat

This is my first time.  No, it is not ‘the’ first time, but it is mine.  

One would think in my advancing years and being somewhat adventurous, there would be few experiences in which I have not actively participated, but this is surely one of them. 

I had the impression this sort of thing was fairly easy to do.  That happens when you watch other people ‘climb the rope.’  It is, however, quite different – the intimacy, the detail, the challenge, the effort – all of it…all of it, WHEN you are actually on the rope yourself!

Moving experiences…

Molly and I have been married for some thirty-five years by now – the vast majority of which in the Midwestern State of Missouri.  After her graduation and before we married, she got a small apartment in Jefferson City where she took a job as an industrial engineer – she is the smart one in the family!

After the marriage, I moved into the apartment…a fairly painless experience consisting of bringing my clothes and a guitar.  Over time, the apartment was not big enough, so she scouted the city and found a home in which, by that time, my sister, her baby daughter and we could all live together.  There we stayed for nearly 25 years.  There wasn’t much to move, and since I was out of town when the date arrived, I simply came home to a different place and life went on.

In the early 2000s, I took a consulting job in Detroit for a year, traveling back and forth to Missouri every other weekend, living in a small apartment furnished by one of those rental companies that, for a moderate price, provided everything one might need to live. 

It soon became clear this job was going to be more permanent than one year, so we made the decision to move our home to Detroit.  We had lived in a 100 year old, quite large, farmhouse filled with more than two decades of stuff and transitioned into a small two-bedroom apartment.  The move was an extraordinary effort of down sizing logistics and project management.  Since I was living in Detroit, and still doing some traveling, my participation in the move was, and let me characterize this in the most personally positive way I can, minimal!  Moving to Detroit?  Really not a problem – for me!

In 2008, I had the opportunity to work with an old friend and colleague in San Diego, California.  We had tried on any number of occasions to find a way to work together, but circumstances simply did not align.  Circumstances changed, and when Vert offered me a job, I said yes!  I was traveling again, but this time participated a little in the move.  A ‘little’ meaning I was there when the packers showed up, when they put things in boxes, and when they loaded the truck and headed to Southern California.

Moving?  I get there are a lot of things that need to be done, but…well, it seemed they just got done – somehow.

The here and now…

Earlier this year, Molly lost her mother.  Her dad had died 2003, so when dear Mary departed the planet from Tucson, Arizona, she had been living alone for nearly 10 years.  After some family discussions, Molly and I decided to take her home.  That, of course, would require another move.

While I have been traveling some this year, Molly let me know this time she would NOT be doing the move by herself…that I would have some responsibility beyond hopping in the car and driving to our new, ready to live in, home.  I had experience, right?  “Sure,” I said, “No problem!”

You know what I have discovered?  Moving a household is a LOT OF WORK!  I am not watching someone climb the rope; I am on the rope!  There are so many things to do, so many details to consider, so many small and large issues, which were simply invisible to me.

The horizon is closer than you think…

So here we are on Saturday morning with the packers coming Monday, the movers Tuesday, Molly out Wednesday and me Thursday – all the logistics planned and executed by my ‘expert mover’ wife. 

My role?  I am an obedient facilitator in the process, which is much more than my previous experience.  My job? Pack this…move that…empty this…get rid of that.  It turns out a lot of stuff has to be prepared before the packers even show up.  What?  It may be a little late in life to be learning this lesson, but I have gained a whole new appreciation for what it takes to move a household.

One can never take the lead if they have not first been a follower.  In my tender advancing years, I suspect I will never be the principal in this sort of thing…there simply is not enough time to adequately learn the process…. AND as much as I would like to end my days in the country of my birth (Canada), this may be the last move.  I can’t say this for certain, but there seems to be a sense this may be the “...Last Picture Show...”

What I can say for certain is this:  One can NEVER know what it takes to do anything unless they have actually done it.  This was another small lesson in life’s journey for me, that the moccasins never walked in can never be fully appreciated.  This has many applications, but one thing is for certain, I have never appreciated the shoes Molly wears more…

- ted