The Things We Move


As we prepare for our fifth move in just over two years, it is amazing to me how important all the “stuff” of life becomes. Our first move, my husband and I loaded our brand new Nissan Versa hatchback full of clothes, books, wedding photos, and knick knacks and drove to Chicago. That was it. The two of us, one overloaded car and a very long car ride in a snowstorm.

We didn’t need movers since we didn’t have any furniture at that point! We found and moved into a 490sq ft studio apartment in Chicago, bought furniture at Ikea, and had it delivered all in the same day. We stayed there a few months while my husband worked at his ROTC unit until he could begin training. My mom, laughing at our close quarters, said, “It’s a good thing you were newlyweds, otherwise you’d have killed each other!”

This time around, we most definitely need a moving truck. Looking around the apartment, “stuff” seems to multiply and having a month’s notice for this move (the longest notice yet!) makes moving it all seem impossible. Every day, I notice more and more things we have acquired since Chicago. We have two bedrooms worth of furniture, bookcases filled with all the books that have now lived in more places than I ever thought I would, my husband’s pint glass collection which is added to at every stop, and one sleeper sofa that I apologize to the movers for since it weighs a ton. These are all the things that go on the truck (though if my husband had his way, the dozens of glasses would be tucked into the Versa). These are the things they move.

The things we move, though, are much more important: our wedding album, just over two years old; our energetic goofball of a dog, Finn; the pint glasses from our honeymoon that are too irreplaceable to risk chipping; our childhood stuffed animals; the masks my husband brought back for me from Mardi Gras; a Nutcracker music box from my dear, late grandfather; the silver dollar my husband’s late grandfather was presented after giving my husband his first salute; the walking stick my husband had stamped on his climb up Mt. Fuji in Japan. These are more than things, at least to us. These are the memories that, when arranged in a new apartment in a new city, make us feel at home.

So, what do you move?

Photo by bancroft&ivy's


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