Last Monday, our packers arrived with about a rain-forest full of cardboard and enough tape to make the World's Largest Tape Ball (which, by the way, weighed in at over 2000 lbs and was almost 13 ft. high). They worked fast and sped through the girls playroom, the 3 upstairs bedrooms and the dining and living rooms in the first day. I made arrangements to be staying at a friends house by Wednesday night because at this rate I would be living on the street by then. I should have known better. When they assessed the house and our belongings back in December, they had told us it would take five days. And five days it would take as it all came to a halt the next day. They slowed down so much that it took them 3 more days to finish packing the kitchen, laundry room, office and our bedroom. Yep, 3 days to pack 4 rooms. Mind you, rooms with a lot of little things, but I think my four year old could have done it faster. But that is a whole other post...I cancelled our reservations at A and G's house because by the time Wednesday rolled around, it was clear that there was no reason we couldn't sleep at our own home until Friday.
Friday came and everything was wrapped, boxed and crated within an inch of its life. All that was left was to load our 301(!) boxes onto the two freight containers they had painstakingly parked in front of our house (save for the tree branch that was knocked off, there were no casualties). It took 4 days to pack it all, and it took all of 4 hours for it all to be loaded. They were efficient, careful and working double time to get out of there.
And all of a sudden it was lunchtime and B and I were staring at an empty house. We ate. We talked. We took care of some e-mails. I finished packing up the 3 boxes of things we had left in the pantry because nothing food related can be taken with you (one of the things I hate most is that you have to start from scratch when you move - no spices, no pasta, no cake mix...nothing can go with you). We were both procrastinating; avoiding having to clean and scrub. But clean and scrub we did. Until the house was more than "Chilean Clean" (they call our expectations of cleanliness "American Clean" so "Chilean Clean" is just under those standards). I left B to turn in the keys and deal with the landlord as I went to deal with my children that had been farmed out to summer school and friends houses all week.
I said goodbye to a house I never loved and walked away. And I turned around to face a new future. One that wouldn't really start until 4 weeks from now. One that leaves all of us in limbo until we can pick up the keys to our new home and sign off on the delivery receipt for our worldly possessions. One that holds new lessons and adventures and promise.
But until then we are homeless. We are tourists in a city we once called home. We have hit that in-between stage where we belong neither here nor there. And we will embrace it, like we do all other stages in this crazy adventure we call life. But we also must acknowledge its trials along the way.
This will not be fun. When is living out of 8 suitcases and a duffle bag, with two children, in three countries, over the course of 10 weeks, ever fun? But it is something to remember. And it is some what of an adventure. And it is something we can say we did together. As a family. As we do everything.
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