Marching Onward

March is here. Time until the wedding is no longer measured in months, but in weeks and days. Two weeks and one day to be exact.

As my to-do list gets shorter, I find myself adding more things to it. Some things are unnecessary, or I spend too long on them. Tomorrow I will call non-responders. We had 95 RSVPs missing at the deadline. Thanks to Facebook, a few phone calls, and some late cards trickling in, that number is down to 62. That’s still way too many people to not know about. Besides that, there are plenty of little tasks, chores and details to attend to. I need to focus my efforts on the major things.

It’s time to start packing.

Moving sucks. Everything must be wrapped with care, crammed in boxes. If I ever hope to see my stuff again, I need to organize it somehow. Things packed illogically are lost in the magical moving black hole, never to be seen or heard from again. I’m still searching for checkbooks I lost moving in college.

I’ve moved several times. Counting college housing, I’ve lived in 12 different places:

  • 6 houses
  • 1 condo
  • 1 duplex
  • 2 dorm rooms
  • 1 rented house
  • 1 apartment

This move will be different than any of those. It will be my first move out of Missouri. If it weren’t for the pesky state of Illinois, Michael would live within an hour of my parents’ houses. Maybe a little space is healthy. I told Michael a while ago that I was like a leech feeding off the vein of my family. Letting go is good. I will also be attempting to merge the belongings I’ve accumulated at both of my parents’ houses into an apartment that is already quite full of Michael’s stuff. I’ve made some donations already, but I’m sure more stuff will have to go.

When I moved to Columbia, I left a lot behind with my parents. But now I’m starting my own life as a married woman. St. Charles will no longer be home base. Anything I can leave behind, I should probably get rid of. Luckily, my parents haven’t threatened to haul my abandoned belongings to Goodwill. They also haven’t mentioned turning my rooms into offices. Some things I just want to leave behind until we buy a house.

Moving teaches a lesson I have yet to master. Less is more. De-clutter your way to happiness. I remember looking over the built-in shelves of my dorm room when most of my trinkets and knick-knacks had been packed away. I thought, wow, this really looks nice. I should have had it like this all year. But alas. Photographs are my downfall. I also have a collection of ceramic plates (mostly from Europe) that I can’t part with. And then there are all the little things that hold memories. I’m too sentimental to get rid of them. But I need room for new memories. It’s time to be an adult.

Packing. Should be fun.

About Nicole

Daughter of God, wife, mother, volunteer youth leader, substitute teacher, aspiring writer, rabbit owner, nature lover. These are some of my titles.
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3 Responses to Marching Onward

  1. Mom says:

    Sentimentally speaking, dont’ ditch the pictures OR the plates! I don’t think I’m the one who threatened either with Gooodwill or an office. And, regarding the leech analogy, I prefer to think of it as a sweet little joey snugly cradled in the mother’s pouch…she comes out to play sometimes but always returns. Alas, the joys and tears of parenthood…your post makes me feel even more melancholy than I was already feeling. We go through a myriad of things: joy, trials, pride, challenges and ultimately, thankfulness for our offspring turning out so well. When someone who meets you for the first time as an adult, or re-connects with you after a long while, comes back to me saying “You’ve done such a good job with her,” my response is always the same…”I can’t take the credit.” God made you, I only got to borrow you for a little while, and now, soon I must let go. And that, my dear, will be ever so bittersweet!

  2. Nicole says:

    I said my parents HAVEN’T threatened Goodwill or an office. Well, I think my dad did mention redo-ing my room once, but it was probably in the same breath as he was talking about how he’s coming along on our honeymoon and sleeping in our hotel room on an air mattress. So I’m not too worried about it. I knew as soon as I finished this post that it would make you sad. Sorry.

    Just remember that getting married doesn’t mean I’ll be gone from your life. Indiana is only six hours away; I’ll be back. And we can have long phone calls. And once tax season is over, you can come up and visit sometimes. You’re right, it would have been a lot easier on you if I had gone straight from college instead of coming home for six months. But I was moved out for four years, including the last few summers. Once it happens, it won’t be as bad as you’re dreading now. Go with the cliche – you’re not losing a daughter, you’re gaining a son šŸ™‚ And I probably won’t actually get rid of much stuff. You know me. I’m like you.

  3. Mom says:

    It wasn’t the post that made me sad, so no worries…it just reminded me that I know I will be.

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