Moving is oh, so hard. I have just spent a year editing furniture, art and accessories. In the first 30 minutes of our well planned and, to my way of thinking, organized move, our familiar mover Dax (familiar because he has helped us over the year of editing) told J. the contents of the loft alone would not fit in a 26’ truck. Forget unpacking the two storage units. His reasoning when I reminded him he said a 26’ truck would hold it all:You told me you’d edited more. You’re obviously an interiors person. Ouch. The long and short of that story is that we ended up, briefly, with three storage units.
This is my attempt at a message in a bottle.
We entertain angels unaware. Four hours into the move, we were scrambling to rent another truck to take loads of what didn’t fit in the 26’ truck to a new storage unit. Six hours into the move (after Dax had gone on to another job) and only two hours from handing keys over to the new owner of the loft, I was frantically calling movers to find labor to continue to load while we cleaned. Many calls down the line, I called Junk Boys. Yes, ma’am, I believe we can help. Give me 15 minutes and I will call you back.
Tony and Mason arrived looking like they’d already worked a very long day. Tony offered to take his dirt-caked boots off before he entered the apartment. We could not possibly have completed the move and cleaning without these two gentlemen, and I do not use that descriptor lightly. I can carry more. I’ll take it to the trash. We’re almost there…look around…what can we take out so you can finish cleaning? Give me more. You have 45 minutes left…you’re going to make it. Days after the move, I thought of those two men…one very young and one graying toward sunset…and their grace, work ethic, encouragement and spirit to lean in to the ugly end of a move.
A move moves us into distress behavior. I hope for a table talk with an expert about that, but suffice it to say, it’s easy for all of our best faculties to shrink when the circumstances call for us to be a giant. Sometimes the best thing we can give each other is a get-out-of-jail-free card when we’ve lost ourselves in a move along with the keys or our phone.
