Moving Day Looms

 

This picture I posted reminds me of another move, a decade ago. As a family we have moved 10 times, not a record by any means. But these overseas moves have all come with their own challenges. Unlike being in the military, Jon and I are paying our own shipping and taking advantage of the opportunity to get rid of what we no longer need.  That means agonizing over decisions on whether to ship, sell or throw away.

In our early days of moving positions it was much easier. Most international schools paid for a generous shipping allowance and we were able to donate our castoffs to our cleaning lady or nanny. We simply got on the plane, and left someone else to clear out our stuff. I do remember the enormous relief when we finally managed to sell our 30 foot sailboat and car days before we were due to leave. 

We had our work cut out for us when moving from Kwajalein after happily filling our family housing for eight years with necessary clutter. We had patio sales, we advertised in the local printed newsletter, and even created a personal website where people could buy with a click of a button. As there was no online Facebook market place, we relied on the island's 'Bargain Bazaar' to take most of the items, like clothes, that we couldn't easily sell. The local charity shop could get things into the hands of the local Marshallese who use them, rather than have the items ending up in the trash.  I remember this as a stressful time, as we haggled about prices, and whether we were too quick to part with the children's legos...

Upon leaving Sofia, we had sorted our possessions into three piles: one for the shipment to Kuwait, another to be shipped home to Minnesota (like skis), and another to be sold (electrical goods).  The last pile went to the only people we knew locally, our teaching colleagues. Because we didn't have an easy way to off load household items, we ended up with more going to Kuwait than was wise. We simply created another problem for ourselves when we had to deal with the wine glasses and corkscrews upon leaving Kuwait. 

Throughout all our moves, we never ended up shipping furniture or larger items like a car.  Those had to be bought on arrival.  Yet we continued to lug around those homey items like paintings and puzzles as if we couldn't do without them.  And every time our shipment arrived in a new place, it was like unpacking our lives all over again.

The internet has made it easier to buy what we need overseas.  It has also made it easier to sell these same items when it is time to move on. Today I posted several inexpensive household items on Facebook Marketplace. Normally I would have donated them or had a patio sale. I have put things outside in a tub marked free, but often the tub is taken and the things dumped in the trash. So I felt it best to post them online. Within minutes I was contacted by various users asking for the items, information about them or where they could pick them up.  It descended into chaos, with multiple bidders and paperwork and even on person asked me to deliver the items to them!  There is no easy way to separate ourselves from the clutter that we feel we need to live comfortably when it comes time to move. The only answer is to stop moving. But I do like the act of passing on my possessions to others so they can enjoy them as much as I.

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Closing a House: Opening Doors

Since my mother passed away a year ago, it has been a never ending process of clearing out her house. The first things to go were her clothes and clutter from drawers and wardrobes.  With the whole family together for the funeral, we enjoyed reminiscing as we waded through old photos and knickknacks that had been gifts from all of us over the years. She kept everything. Several old pieces passed down from our grandparents were set aside for someone to research the value of: silver cutlery, Chinese vases and original paintings. 

With my siblings and I living all around the world, we don't have the chance to just get together and chat.  But now we were forced to. There were decisions to be made, and work to be done.  I was able to accompany my brother to do the probate paperwork, and support him in the tedious tasks of form filling and bill paying. It was an incite into what my eldest brother, who lived nearest my mother, had quietly done for her care over the years. 

Traveling over to London, I soon found that the job of clearing the house ready for sale was too much for one person. Another brother arrived from the US and made use of his British drivers license to start making trips to the local dump. I made contact with local auction houses to see if we could put a value on the antiques. In the end we decided to make a list of pictures of what we had, and share it with family and friends. Family members asked me to save for them anything that reminded them of mom or grandma. We contacted her local church and several members came round to pick up items. I suddenly found myself interacting with old friends and getting to know neighbors who new my mother. Two of them invited me round for a meal.

We needed help moving some furniture and were fortunate to find a neighbor with a van. We bonded over taking apart wardrobes and shifting sofas. He gave us advice on how to get rid of other items.

By now my contacts list is growing to include people in this neighborhood of London.  My mother was very fortunate to spend her last years here, surrounded by such caring people. One neighbor drives a mail van and delivered some boxes to the house. Another came and took cuttings of my mother's roses. The lady in the fish & chips shop just round the corner remembers her also. And one sweet neighbor brought around a family who is interested in buying the house!

A local charity will pick up items like electronics and they very kindly came by with a truck. The driver was very interested in my grandfather's carved antique chest and we had to explain how we were not ready to part with that yet. We ended up storing that in yet another brother's garage along side the old diaries and translation work to which my parents had dedicated their life.

My brothers and I took a break from clearing out furniture and papers, to visit my parents' grave. They are buried in a wonderfully secluded little old church in Kent. After putting flowers on their graves, we visited others  belonging to family members that we only remembered from our childhood. Then a visit to nearby Canterbury to visit our cousin took us right past the big old house we holidayed in together.  More old photos started to fill in the blanks of those I never met, like my grandfathers, and others that have passed away more recently.  We discussed together the making of headstones and decided to add some Kaiwa language to the back of the stone. 

This short visit to take care of my mother's affairs has been a breath of fresh air. Not only have I, with help, managed to clear, sort, donate and share the majority of my mother's belongings, (and there were many!) but I connected with kind and caring people who loved my mother and were willing to help.  After being bogged down with grief, all the tasks of closing up a loved one's life, and being so far away and isolated from family, I am now feel I can breathe again, and sort out what is important and necessary when looking to the future.