In a few weeks Chez Lunatic will be moving into new digs. This means there is going to be a whirlwind of packing going on for the next few weeks, and I am NOT looking forward to it. Let me make this very clear. I love moving. I love being in a new place and setting order up and getting things organized into new spaces. I love the thrill and excitement of being someplace Other than where I was, of learning new neighborhoods and meeting new neighbors (though I don’t think anyone will be able to match our current neighbors whom our whole family has come to love in such a short time).
But I HATE packing. I hate it as much as I hate cleaning bathrooms, and if you know me, you know I will do just about anything to procrastinate on cleaning the bathroom, especially bathtubs and toilets. I would rather be stuck in rush hour traffic. Why? It’s the sheer enormity of it, isn’t it? Think about it. There are six lifetimes of possessions in this house, not including all the shared things like tv’s and video game consoles, furniture, etc. Big things, little things, micro-tiny things, and they all have to be packed away and transported to the new place. Unpacking is no big deal. It’s kind of like Christmas. But packing it all? Daunting. I’m already feeling overwhelmed.
The good news is that we will have a month and half to get things moved so I don’t have to rush. I’ve already begun packing the china from my mother and my paternal grandmother. Once it’s all packed, away to the storage unit it goes until the house is open to us and my china hutch is moved into place. I already have Zombie Hunter (who has just informed me he is now FrostZone) boxing up ALL the toys in his room and Tornado’s things are already in plastic bins because they’re just easier to store that way. Big Son still has his things in boxes from when he moved back home but The Teenager is fighting packing as much as I am. We really hates it, Precious.
The thing is, it’s a lifetime of things we’ve accumulated. Every card someone has given us, every knickknack, every silly little thing we’ve somehow acquired that’s made us smile, and now we have to pack it all away. In one way it’s fun to go through the things we’ve collected and revisit the memories, but, for me anyway, the memories are becoming more and more bittersweet as I realize those times are long gone and some of the people those memories are attached to have been away from us for decades now while others are still too fresh and recent. Granted I do a ‘purge’ every year of items that I haven’t missed or haven’t used. But I still hang on to some things that I just can’t bear to part with even though the memory is still as fresh as it ever was. For example? I have a troll baby I was given as a present by my grandmother years ago. It is one of the ugliest things I have ever seen. I have no specific memories of ever being crazy about it. And yet, when I came across it in a box I was recently going through, I couldn’t set it aside or let it go. Because my grandmother gave it to me. My husband said that since it was small and didn’t take up a lot of space that it didn’t matter and I should keep it. Yet I still felt as if I shouldn’t hold onto it because I do have other things that remind me of my grandmother much more strongly than this ugly little doll. And yet…
Back into the box it went. I don’t really regret it yet I’m still having conflicting feelings about it.
It’s kind of scary, really, don’t you think?
Le sigh. The things we hold onto.
What are some of the things you can’t let go of no matter what? I’d really love to hear/see.
For now, it’s back to packing and purging (or trying to).