A Moving Story

I have used One Slip lyrics to fuel my fiction on a number of occasions but there are large pieces that could easily fit into this post of reality. Except I don’t have the time nor energy to weave the words into my detail. But I’ll do my best to give this a double dose of my normal alacrity and we’ll see what happens.

“A small regret, you won’t forget,
There’ll be no sleep in here tonight”

The move has been harder, tougher and longer than expected in every way. I am built like a bull and not Baryshnikov. You won’t look at me to dance gracefully across the stage but you’d hire me to move your couch or engage in general demolition. I have hands that some refer to as paws, arms like a gorilla a broad back that has been used to move more than a few pieces of furniture.

This is not the first time I have moved furniture for myself or for other others. I know what it means to work with my hands and have never been the stranger to hard, physical labor. Grunt work in basketball and football has always been where I made my mark. I pound, push, pull, tug and shrug my way from place to place. So I approached this move like I had with every other.

But time is a fickle woman who sometimes can be a friend and sometimes a foe. She tossed her head the other way and I found myself fighting aches, pains and bruises that had never been. Add in a heat wave that sent the temperature soaring above triple digits, more stuff to move than anticipated, unexpected emotion and you to can chug down this witch’s brew.

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Somewhere around midday I found myself thinking about my paternal grandfather and what sort of stories he might have shared with me regarding the move and the accompanying nonsense. But instead of focusing on what he might have said I remembered a different story that took place when he was in high school.

Grandpa got in trouble in school and was told that he couldn’t return to class unless his father and he met with the principal. Grandpa was less than thrilled with the idea of telling his father about this and decided that there had to be a way around the punishment that would have assuredly been doled out by my great grandfather.

So he hired a man to come to school with him to pretend to be his father. The time and day arrive and together the two of them walk into the principal’s office. The principal begins a lengthy recitation of what my grandfather has done wrong. Midways through his recitation the man who is prentending to be my great grandfather reaches over and belts my grandfather, knocking him off of the chair he is sitting on.

A few minutes later my grandfather is furiously berating the man who hit hm and asks why he did it as the whole purpose in hiring him was to avoid getting punished. And in response he was told, ‘you wanted it to look real, didn’t you.”

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The majority of the move is now done. There are relatively few items left to pack and or process. The majority have been moved into storage pods, given away or left in garbage cans. Soon we’ll have completely crested the hill and it will be time to decompress and let go of the energy that I have been carrying around. New chapters remain to be written and new opportunities to be discovered.

Much has been learned and more remains. This post is really just part of short diversion designed to help me catch my breath. It is time to pop two Advil and finish what has been started. This story remains unfinished.

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Comments

  1. @bdorman264 Advil and I have become fast friends- been sucking them down like crazy.

  2. @Faryna I’ll see what I can do.

  3. Wow, still ongoing; however, I loved the grandfather story. A true classic………

    Chin up and Advils down; you will survive.

  4. Pics of the new place and kids would be awesome.

  5. @marianne.worley I used to love watching the Beav get into and out of trouble, I am not sure if I saw that one, but it sounds familiar. It is a good lesson that has some basis in reality.

    Kids seem to be ok. I am curious to see what happens a week from now when it settles in that we really aren’t going back. Should be interesting, but hopefully they’ll be ok.

    Ultimately I think that they will be fine, but my job is to worry so….

  6. @AdrienneSmith It was long and arduous and now we have to unpack, but it is done for now. Although I suspect that this is a short stop, but that is a different story.

    My grandfather was a great guy and one hell of a lot of fun. That story is legendary in our family- made me laugh so hard the first time I heard it.

    Thank you for the kind wishes, it is very much appreciated.

  7. The story about your grandfather is hilarious. It reminds me of the Leave it to Beaver episode when Beaver hires an attorney to defend him from an unscrupulous marketing company that’s demanding money. Beaver wasn’t expecting it, but the attorney ended up taking every penny Beaver had offered (maybe 37 cents), but that was the price for that lesson.

    I know what you mean about moving. I’m known as the person who can pack the most fragile china and not break a thing. I’m invited to pack, label, and organize, just like you’re invited to haul the big furniture. I hope everything went as well as it can during this tough time, and the kids are coping with the change.

  8. I hate moving Jack, really despise it so I feel for you. Especially if you are doing it in this heat. Honestly, I think any healthy young athletic guy would be worn out after all of that. This type of thing just drains you emotionally and physically.

    Loved the story about your paternal grandfather. I would have never had the balls to even come up with hiring someone. That was hilarious but you know, I could imagine my Dad doing that. Yep, he was a hoot and although he wasn’t a trouble maker in school, he did a lot of stuff we would have never dreamed about. Of course he also use to tell us after one of his stories, “don’t EVER let me catch you doing that”. That alone scared the heck out of us.

    Hang in there, the end is in site.

    Adroemme

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