In less than fifty days, Kinga and I are moving.
It’s not a cross-town move, probably the worst, because you are reasonably sure you can do it all yourself with a little help from a few friends. And so you rent a truck and put all your possessions in it and drive across town and unload it and then do it again.
And again. The what-to-ditch filter is not so incredibly fine, and you end up ditching precious little, and regretting it when it’s ten at night and you started before seven and you’re still not done.
It’s not a cross-country move. I’ve done that too. Well, sort of. My parents did half the work, because I was moving back from Poland to Boston. They brought most of my stuff up from Virginia, and so I guess they did the hard part.
No, Kinga and I are doing a trans-oceanic move. A continental move, which is both easier and more difficult than a cross-town move. What gets left behind is a much larger pile than what comes along.
Of course all the furniture stays.
Of course all the artwork should go, but – and here’s where it’s more difficult than a cross-town move – the possibility of damage necessitates tough decisions. We have two amazing glass paintings, one of which will stay due to its size of about thirty-six by twenty-four inches.
Of course most of the clothes go. But trans-oceanic moves also force you to clean out your closet. I’ve already ditched one pair of shoes. It was on a recent three-day bike trip to Slovakia. Instead of hauling the old, worn-out things back to Poland, I left them in the hostel, much to Kinga’s delight. Like many wives, she doesn’t appreciate old, comfortable shoes
Books occupy a curious place in the move – they’ll be packed up, but not all sent. Once we get a decent place to live, we’ll have them sent. Until then, most of them are staying in Poland.
Then there’s the question of computers, cameras, and other fragile electronics. And bikes – we have three.
Decisions, decisions.
Perhaps the most difficult part of it is the fact that a cross-state move awaits. My folks have been collecting furniture for us the last few months, so we’ll have to rent a truck, pack it up, and…
Dear Mr. Suits,
We remind you to take care during this difficult transition from one country to another. Moving is the third most stressful thing you can do, but staying in the same place is the most boring. I think number one on the stress list is public speaking, followed by death, then moving, or maybe divorce, but that includes moving. I’m surprised number one isn’t public speaking about death. It should be. I gave a disastrous eulogy of my mother-in-law in which I stated that her love “rotated.” I saw some curious eyebrows so I elaborated, saying I meant that she could really only love a few people at a time, and then she’d move on, which gave people the impression they’d been dumped. I got out of it somehow. And that’s my advice to you and Kinga. Live, love, move often. Rotate your love, your tires, your entire head if you can. But don’t give eulogies, even if they tell you you have to because you’re so “funny.”
I wondered why you’d been so quiet. I hope you’ll keep us updated on the changes now!
PS I tried to respond to your comment, but my email bounced back. Thank you very much for your thoughts. :)
KinGary:
Malgosia and the kids will soon be doing the same thing. I hope your move went well.