Moving Day



We peeked throughout the house to make sure we hadn’t missed any of our belongings.

I glanced into each room quickly, my daughter and wife’s eyes lingered a little bit longer.

They wanted to make certain we weren’t leaving anything behind.

As we stood by the front door, ready to leave our old place for the final time my wife looked sad

and my daughter began sobbing. Moving day had been hard physically and now it was becoming

difficult emotionally. To the naked eye, the house looked completely empty. Everything we owned

was either packed up or gone, but at the moment what we saw was a home that was full of our

fondest memories.

As tears streamed down Marissa’s cheeks, she reminded us that our beloved Golden Retriever and

her had romped around in the back yard many times. I recalled our big dog trying to share a small

plastic sled with my daughter in the wintertime and how the two of them loved running through the

sprinkler during the hottest days of summer.

She mentioned the sleepovers she had with friends and for a moment I even missed the sound of

teen girls giggling at one A.M.   She pointed to the spots where her and some of her closest friends

gathered before middle school dances and Senior prom to take pictures next to our fireplace and on our

front porch. Marissa had her “Sweet Sixteen” and “Graduation Party” here as well as some others.

My daughter and her friends had a painting party when she redecorated her bedroom.

We loved celebrating special occasions in our dining room and I thought of the times my wife and I

would fix a nice meal, share a bottle of our favorite wine and talk for hours about all kinds of things

( something that we still love to do). I was just hitting the tip of the memory iceberg and it was tough.

I thought of the times Marissa mentioned and then I remembered some additional ones and suddenly

I was sad too.

I realized that my daughter had spent her “wonder years” and lived half her life here, so of course

she was sad to leave the place. Ironically, she has an apartment of her own and was just there that day

to help us move out.

As tough as it was for each of us to leave, we couldn’t be standing there in the

foyer when the new owners arrived, that would have been awkward for everybody. I took a deep breath

and tried being logical. I reminded myself that the house had gotten older, a little ragged around the

edges and more difficult to take care of…kind of like me. It was time to downsize and upgrade to

a newer place. I sighed and turned the key to the old front door one last time and made sure it was

locked.  I hid the key under a rock for the new owners, then we climbed into our SUV and pulled away

from the place we had called home for over thirteen years.  My daughter was crying again and I can’t

say I blamed her. Moving is a part of life but that doesn’t mean moving is easy. In fact, moving is

difficult! It’s difficult because you have to pack up all of your important stuff, you try giving away your

leftover stuff and you have to throw away all of your unnecessary stuff.

As it turns out, that’s the easy part of moving.

The most difficult part of moving is figuring out what to do with all of the moments you shared and the

memories you made at your home.  When you leave a special place, you feel like you’re leaving the

memories you made behind.

Maybe it’s just me, but it seems impossible to store every memory of home and of growing up in your

mind or heart. That explains my daughter’s tears and why Moving Day took a toll on her!

As we drove toward our new house my pep talk began. I reminded my daughter and wife that we were

moving to a beautiful new home and we would be starting an exciting new chapter of our lives. I told

them that we had a chance to make lots of new memories. I also reminded my daughter she was

welcome to visit as often as she wanted ( Our new memories won’t be nearly as great without her)!



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