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Moving House: Life in Boxes

Our four-and-a-half-year stay in our two-bed rental came to an end at 7am when there was a knock on the door…

 

At that time of morning it’s hard to muster much nostalgia. And even though I’d experienced many of the greatest joys of my life while living in that house we were more than ready to go. The arrival of the removal men marked the end of a long, long journey to buying our own home.

It had been the house where our family had grown from three to four. The living room was where both boys had taken their first steps, the second bedroom was where I rocked both my boys to sleep, the first bedroom was where Faith’s waters broke (which may be why I’m yet to receive my deposit back), the kitchen was where we baked the cakes for our sons’ first few birthdays and the garden was where we made fire and burned stuff whenever Faith was out for the day.  

But, it was not without its frustrations, with fixes done cheaply and slowly it never felt like the house was willingly our home. It felt more like a campground in the off season – fine – but not somewhere you want to stay too long.

As soon as the boys had witnessed the very impressive parallel parking of the removal men, with the very real danger of getting packed ourselves we headed out for breakfast. It was strange to go from chaos to calm and weird to think that this monumental day for our family was ‘just another day’ for the rest of the world. With an attempt to make the day as normal as possible we then delivered our eldest son to school and I went to our new house to try and get as much painting done before all our stuff arrived.  

With the paint perilously wet, a few hours later an alarming number of boxes turned up at our new home. According to the removal men they’d all come from our old house, and let’s face it, who argues with removal men? So boxes were stacked high and wide and our new spacious home soon started feeling a little cramped.

The day ended with a flurry of friends and family unpacking boxes, eating pizza and a house full of laughter and fun. Sure, I don’t know where anything is and it’s going to be a while before I’m able to use my garage to store anything but boxes, but that can’t dampen my mood. Our long journey to our new home is over. The memories we made in our last home never really belonged to the house, they belonged to us – me and my family – and I brought all those guys with me.

 

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