The Day the Movers Came (Part 1: The Morning)

It’s hard to know how to handle moving day. Do you celebrate? Do you commiserate? What do you say to your kids? How do you handle your own emotions? Do you buy food the moving men? Snacks? Do you tip? How much? Especially, when all I really want to do is curl up into a ball, lay in bed and cover my head until it is all over. But, of course, that is not an option.

 

This morning, everything felt a bit surreal. We were all going through our normal morning routine – getting ready for school, work and the like. I took a few photos and decided I would walk the girls to school today. Too much nervous energy and I wanted to get out while I could. Everyone was in good spirits, no crying, no sadness – just a normal, Monday. It felt so strange.

  The movers were suppose to arrive at 7:30 this morning and at 9:00 – we received a call that they were late (um, obviously) and would be here in the hour. I felt the walls closing in on me, so the Hubs, youngest and I headed outside. Before long, the moving truck pulled up and I gave them the walk through.

At this moment, our flat is covered with unpacked boxes – just leaning against the walls; the stuff that makes life comfortable is slowly filling each one. The movers, though three hours late, are on a mission – packing and labeling; currently there is one in the hallway and two upstairs in the girls room. Our little guy is finally down for a nap, his curiosity of the moving men subdued – he checked each of them out carefully and inspected what they were doing; the girls are on their second to last day of school and the Hubs is on his way to Frankfurt for a 4pm meeting.

Which means, here I sit. Alone. Listening to the sound of tape – squeaking its way around boxes.

Until now, the move back was a distant thought. Something far away, that we knew was going to happen – eventually. We continued to live the life here – school, friends, bike rides… not paying attention to each passing day and what lays ahead. But, here it is. Moving day.

The emotional dam is cracking and before long I know I will be a mess. Good byes are not my specialty, never have been, it’s too final. I push away the thoughts and emotions until, one day, it all comes pouring out. Well, my friends, that day is nearing. You. Have. Been. Warned.

 

… Part 2 – the afternoon, comes later tonight…

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One Response to The Day the Movers Came (Part 1: The Morning)

  1. Amy H says:

    Oh Ann…my eyes are tearing in remembrance.

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