Month: January 2016

Scavenger Hunt

Packing with wrapping paper makes unpacking better.
Packing with wrapping paper makes unpacking better.

There is nothing like packing everything you were excited at one point to buy, lifting it all, unpacking it, packing it again, lifting it all again, and then trying to climb your way through a mountain of heavy, ominous boxes to make you scream, “Why do we have stuff?” If you asked me right now if I owned scissors, I would tell you that I don’t know. I would tell you that I have seen scissors and I suspect I still own them, but I’m not sure if I last saw them in the house I lived in six months ago, the one I lived in two months ago, or the one I currently live in. I would also tell you that everything we own seems to weigh a thousand pounds, and packing fragile items in Christmas wrapping paper takes a little of the sting out of unpacking.

Moving is a part of life, and it is good. Living in three different houses in a span of six months is a little much. Doing all of this the day after dropping Josiah off at college may have been nuts. Having a daughter get engaged halfway through all the change gives a person facial twitches.

“Have you seen any of my socks,” Mike asked me in a hurry to leave for work.

“Not since the last house,” I told him. “But I think they are packed with the band aids and cotton balls.”

“Mom,” Drake said, “Have you seen my backpack?”

“It might be in the garage, or maybe in the basement. Have you seen the cords to hook up the TV?” I asked as I noticed Mike shove his sockless feet into his shoes and rush out the door.

“No, but the TV is in the spare bedroom.”

“I think I saw the cords,” Emery said, happening upon our conversation. “They are in a box with some candles. Does anyone know where my lunch box is?”

It’s like we’ve created for ourselves a nonstop scavenger hunt.

My dog moved with us. It took him about thirteen seconds to change residences. He paced in agitation until we said, “Let’s go!” Then he jumped into the car and his address changed. I want to be more like my dog.

Borrow Dad

“How is the work on the house going?” my mom asked when she called. I looked at the sawdust covered floor of the house we had worked at from dawn till muscular collapse and sighed at the doors that needed installing and the wood trim that needed painting.

“It’s a lot of work,” I said.

“Will you be ready to move in on time?” she asked.

“I really hope so.”

“Do you want to borrow Dad?”

Emery, Grandpa Dave, Drake
Emery, Grandpa Dave, Drake

“Is that an option? How fast can he get here?”

Since my parents are what I call professional helpers, it is hard to keep track where they are or what they are doing. A few years back they sold their house and all they owned and began traveling to places that needed help. They have volunteered to cook for the firemen in Colorado who were putting out the wildfires. They have helped towns torn apart by tornadoes. They have prepared beds and food for missionaries just arriving from overseas, and they have filled a container with supplies for refugees. But, two short days after the phone call with my mom, my dad arrived ready to paint, saw, nail, and clean.

Dave Kennedy. Saving my life since 1970.