T –minus ten days until we move. We have already packed most of our stuff into U-Haul boxes in preparation for our “take off” to Cranston, Rhode Island. We have even crammed tons of boxed and un-boxed possessions into our cars and delivered them to our new house. Until the renovations on our new home are complete, most of the deliveries have taken shelter in the garage, basement or closets. Their final resting place will have to wait until construction is complete.

The packing and unloading was easy. The difficult part was deciding what to put in the boxes and how to explain to Pako the Cat that his well marked home of eight years would soon be history. Through continuing and intense therapy, Pako is beginning to adapt to the idea, but what to take with us, give away or haul to the dump is much more difficult and, at times, painful! For example, my comfy chair and ottoman upon which I have napped and watched three Steeler Super Bowl victories, but has been ripped to shreds by Pako’s fine-tuned claws, did not make the cut. I am not sure where it will go yet, but it is not moving to Cranston. I do not suffer alone. Karin’s desk upon which she slaved on the way to her doctorate did not make the cut either. Deciding what goes or stays has definitely been an exercise in shared pain.

Other than the stuff that has outlived its usefulness or has been beaten into submission, what goes and what stays? We both worried about how our downsizing would be achieved. Karin is a bit more of a packrat than I am, but her ability to shed several layers of possessions has been impressive. I threw away or put in the “do not move” pile more than I thought. How did we do it? With credit for the idea given to Karin, we made the decision based purely upon sentimentality. On any item hanging by a thread, we asked, “Does it have any meaning to either one of us? Do we remember how it was acquired or who gave it to us? Does it have a story?” Any item that has meaning, brings to mind a person we love or has a story that brings joy to our souls is on the truck. No meaning, no story, no box, it’s not going. It will either find a new home or get re-cycled at the Barnstable Town Dump.

The moving experience is a reminder that, just like each of our prized possessions, everybody has a story. Every person is unique. God does not create with a duplicator. God creates each one of us, one person at a time. Then, we make our way down the path of life in our own peculiar way. We decide which twist or turn to take. Whatever twists we give to life or whatever turns we take, however, are of our own creation. They are our own unique possessions. We pack them away and they move with us no matter which way we go.

Here is an afterthought: Maybe if we all respect each other’s story, the little corner of the world in which we live will be a much more peaceful place.

In any event, we are ready for “TAKE OFF!”