Our plans were made and gosh darn it- I didn’t want to make any further changes. Already our in wet cement move date changed three times and my determination to get there grew a stiff backbone. That Monday morning the keys to the largest U-Haul truck available for rent became our storage vehicle.
Mental down-time rarely sprang-up but as we drove to visit with my grandpa ninety miles away the lull gave way to a realization: We needed to pack a moving truck to the brim, then unpack it all while making macro and micro life adjustments. The thought sobered me and I turned to Yelp for a reference. Yes, the Realtor turned to social media to review recommendations for movers in our area.
Reviews initially won my heart but when I spoke with the owner of Brewer Moving his level of professionalism and knowledge sent me over the moon and I scheduled a moving crew for the following Monday. It’s one of those times where asking forgiveness is better than asking for permission. As a parent I’ve learned an important lesson that shouldn’t carry over to marriage but I sometimes does: Don’t ask questions you don’t want an answer to.
Steve looked over when the call ended wondering what I just paid for as we sped down the monotonous 99. I didn’t ask him because I couldn’t handle more loops on our roller-coaster move; not when I could prevent it but I fessed-up quickly and slightly defensively. Initially my thrifty let’s do-it-ourselves-husband scoffed then I explained why I hired a moving crew.
Three man crew for only two hundred and fifty bucks?! Come on, that’s a no-brainer!
We know we need the truck packed precisely because we will otherwise max the space out. (Also a no-brainer- we completely underestimated our material possessions.)
It’s foolish to pack the truck and exhaust ourselves knowing we have a twenty-plus hour drive ahead, not to mention unpacking and the tiring details of starting a new life.
Our series of moves prepared me for this day, for the never-stopping never-ending energy drain of loading a truck while trying to finish throwing the too many “last minute” odds and ends into random boxes to forever be unaccounted for. I wasn’t prepared for doing it without my husband. Loading the truck without my partner never entered my mind.
Initially our move should have been in the past and on this day we should have been states away trying to resituate our lives. However, the move continued to get pushed back and there we were, still in California as my mother-in-law underwent a routine gall bladder surgery minutes from our house. Again, we should have been there, but we were still in our hometown.
With the moving underway my husband juggled between the move, our business and the feeling he needed to be at the hospital with his dad while his mom was in surgery. A good friend continued to offer helping hands, but in those moments, she provided a significant sounding board. It’s times like these when I realize the importance of having friends that share faith and values. When life blindsides, it’s difficult to see straight, to know certainly the best path to take, but when a friend is willing to offer a dependable perspective, suggestion, opinion or affirmation a reassurance offers peace in spite of chaos.
Distracted by his mom’s surgery my husband paced and offered nominal help with the packing process. He hemmed and hawed over going to the hospital or not. What’s the point in being there?
Sometimes going simply means being present.
For those prone to basing growth, progress and success upon productivity the concept of being present seems flimsy. This concept is imperative to living in relationship with others.
Be at the hospital when the baby is born.
Be at the hospital when the surgery happens.
Be there for graduations.
Somehow from the other side of heaven my dad continues to teach me how to live life. He left a forever impression on my life when his mom died after a planned heart surgery. Go. Don’t sit around, don’t wait around at home- GO- BE THERE! I assured my husband several times before he actually believed me, “You need to go, you need to be there with your dad.”
It terrified me to send him off when the task before me was daunting, but even in the mess of moving there are priorities.
I could have felt sorry for myself, poor me, we’re moving to a land far far away and now my husband left me alone when I need him most. I could have waxed on, it’s his garage to pack, I cannot believe he didn’t take my advice weeks ago and pack it! Truly, non of that is written passive aggressively because we’re married and when you marry it’s for better or for worse.
When you marry, you become a team. At this moment the strength of our team allowed us to be more than we could possibly be as individuals. Our move continued to progress as it needed to and my husband was able to spend time with his parents.
I took a deep breath, looked at my reassuring friend and tried to focus on the job before me. The moving crew upheld their end of the agreement and more. I’m grateful for help, but never before have I been more grateful for the capable help of a moving crew. God knows what we need, when we need it and He sometimes works through insubordinate wives to provide for needs.
Already our moved shifted for this precise moment in time, but I didn’t realize the series of shifts we’d continue to make over the next month. Sometimes a month feels like a solid year. We were entering one of those times and the strength of our garden wedding vows with God allowed our team to reach immeasurable farther than we could alone.