Have you ever tried moving 3188miles with a family of six and about ten pets? Because if you haven’t, I don’t suggest it. It is the most hectic experience you’ll ever have, especially if the four year old insists on packing every single piece of baby clothes she ever wore and the cats decide to spend their time hiding in the packing boxes and springing out at every unsuspecting person who opens the package.
“Ouch! Patches, stop that!” Mom exclaimed shoving away a cat who had attacked her as she tried to load picture frames into a box. For the last day and a half, we had been packing constantly. I wouldn’t be surprised if we got to our house in England and realized we packed everything, even the kitchen sink. Although we still had three days until leaving and most of our house was packed up, my mom was treating it like a marathon, and I was one unhappy runner.
“I’m heading to Nanny’s,” I yelled to my family, though it was doubtful they would hear me through the commotion of one million loud pets and four loud people. Throwing open the door, I flew down the block and rounded the corner to my grandma’s apartment building.
“Hey, Frank,” I said to the doorman as I walked in.
“Howdy, Annie,” he replied. “I hear y’all are moving away. Just wanted to let ya know I’m gonna miss all ya around this place.”
“Gee, thanks Frank,” I told him, genuinely touched. “I’m heading up to Nanny’s. See ya later!”
“Bye!” he called after me while I waited, tapping my foot impatiently, for the elevator. After I hit the button for the fourth floor and knocked on Nanny’s door, I was surprised to find such a calm environment, at least compared to our house. She sat on the dark wood floor Indian-style and wrapped tiny Buddha statues in cloth, putting them methodically into boxes arranged in a grid on the floor.
“Nanny!” I cried as I rushed into the small room, my Converse making a pounding sound on the no-longer carpeted floor. “I’m so glad to see you. This move is completely devastating!” I said, throwing my hands in the air dramatically. The ever-serene Nanny turned to look at me.
“Darling, you know this is a stress-free zone,” my grandmother replied, her silvery hair in loose waves down her back. “And I’m already prepared for your barrage of questions..” She turned and plucked a small green box off the intricately carved granite table next to her. “Here, look at this.” I opened the box to reveal a sapphire-studded heart on a silver chain.
“It’s beautiful!” I gasped, touching it tenderly. “Where did you get this?” With the question, a flash of alarm crossed the usually calm face of my grandma.
“Oh, nowhere,” she answered lightly, not meeting my eyes, therefore keeping me from getting a glance at her thoughts. “Do you like it?”
“Like it? I love it! But, Nanny, how does that have any effect on my problem?”
“Oh, darling, whenever you see this, you’ll remember your friend here and memories. Flip the heart over.” I did as instructed, and, squinting, read the engraving.
“ ‘Friendship is forever, and memories span any gap. ‘ Oh Nanny, this is beautiful,” I said, beginning to cry. “I’ll cherish this forever.”
“Anytime, my dear,” she replied, looking a bit teary herself. “Anytime. Now, speaking of moving, I need help!” She gestured around her to the still mostly decorated apartment.
“Okay,” I replied, smiling. She was still the hardy grandmother I knew and loved.
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Boxes. Boxes. And more boxes. I swear, we’re living in a corrugated cardboard kingdom- I mean, the only place not stuffed with boxes is my room. Pushing open aside tall stacks of brown boxes and walking through the poster covered door, I sighed, as I looked around at the sunshine yellow walls, bright, snowy white furniture, and a patchwork quilt from the cute little shop in town called Sparkles &Glitter. I was really going to miss this room, with the sunshine streaming through the lace curtains of my huge, plate-glass windows. I hear in England it was always dreary. No more waking up by a stream of sunshine. More like a boom of thunder. “Bang!” A large crash that sounded suspiciously like a Penelo-catastrophe jolted me out of my reverie.
“Ouch!” I heard Penelope screech, as another loud noise sounded. Seconds later, I heard Conrad race down the stairs.
“Penelope, what did you do to my globe?” he called worriedly. I opened my door, and gave my mother a look of despair as she stuffed princess dresses into boxes, sitting in the middle of Penelope’s pink - and when I say pink, I mean pink EVERYWHERE - room..
“I know, I know,” my frantic mother told me, in response to my unspoken question.. “I should make sure nobody died. But I need to finish packing up all Penelope’s junk- I mean, ‘royal treasures.’” She sighed. “I’m so tired, honey. I’ve been packing day and night. I don’t think I’ve slept more than seven hours in the last three days.” A glance at the dark circles under her eyes definitely supported her claim.
“How ‘bout this,” I said thoughtfully. “I’ll go and make sure we won’t have to get a Certificate of Death in addition to our passports. Then, I’ll go check the other rooms upstairs. If there’s any bits and pieces of stuff that hasn’t been packed up yet, I’ll put Penelope and Conrad on the job. But don’t worry,” I assured her, as she looked at me in a way that let me know how she felt about allowing Penelope alone to pack up possibly breakable items. “I’ll make them work together. With Conrad’s obsessiveness about perfection, the job will be done quickly.”
“But what about you?” my mother questioned. I knew she wanted me to tell her I was going to be doing something worthwhile.
“I,” I sadly answered, “will be packing up my stuff.” I realized that life as I knew it was over forever.
