Moving Day

The day of Mom L’s move was riddled with stress. No, I wasn’t surprised, but having never dealt with movers before, I never would have guessed how hectic it would get.

Strike one – the movers were three hours late, so they sent four guys instead of three. Sounds like a nice thing, but for the first hour only two people did any work – strike two. Thanks to our organization of the boxes and furniture, the truck was packed in under three hours and we were on our less-than-merry way.

When they arrived at our home, the four guys did work and it was chaotic. Too many people, going through too many doors with too many boxes – ugh. I think we were all thankful for them to leave, despite the damage they did to two of our walls and the upholstery on a chair – strike three.

The result, though, was chaos in our house – and Mom L’s realization that she had a lot of stuff. At one point she, standing at the top of the stairs, called down to me and said, “There aren’t many more boxes, are there?” Sadly there were.

After all was said and done, she seemed a little embarrassed at all of the stuff she had brought. Mike and I helped her get her room in some semblance of order so she could go to bed. Tomorrow would be another day and I was off all week to help her organize.

Whew.