Being able to pack all your belongings in the back if a Geo Metro was a skill I excelled at. It was a badge of pride, and since I was 12 a matter of necessity.
There was the winter where we were moving out of the parsonage and into a townhouse. My mother was suffering from bronchitis and I was at an age where I was minimally useful. I saw my father struggle to move our belongings, with no help from the church elders, and take us to our next temporary home. The new pastor was coming so god, speaking through his chosen leaders, wanted us to vacate. I had been reduced to one box of toys, I box of clothes 1 pair of sneakers, 1 pair of boots, 1 light jacket, 1 heavy jacket.
We had moved from our home after my father lost his job and the church took us in until a new pastor came. I had to donate most of my belongings to the other church kids.
The move this time damaged my mother’s health as she usually slept on the couch in the living room. The front door was there and we shuffled in and out as quickly as possible, gearing her coughs back away into the night.
This move led to another move 18 months later, and another move 18 months later and then we stayed as indentured servants to an apartment management company until I left for the military. From that time until I turned 41, I moved every year. Every move I did on my own, no help, no friends because i never stayed anywhere long enough.
I am getting acclimated to the idea that since I bought a house I will not have to move. Over half a decade later, I’m not convinced we wont move again. When I see all our stuff I cant enjoy it as I think how long will it take to move. When I am able to relax, I’ll have paid it off and be buried out back.