Moving memories

I have an arrangement with my landlord.

I am going to die in this house...because I detest moving. He’s OK with that.

We all go through life gathering this and that, not really thinking about all the items we have picked up along the way. That is until we decide to move.

While its amazing the things I have found during this latest moving adventure, it is even more amazing to realize the places I’ve been, the connections with family and friends, old photos and assorted trinkets I’ve found.

Everywhere we go, we bring home memories, whether in actual, physical form or just in our minds. On the surface, it may seem like just another trip to watch a ball game or see a concert, but those memories fill our minds and hearts just as much as a box of photos or a stack of t-shirts fill our shelves.

I opened a plastic tote and found pieces of a rag doll my mother was sewing for my daughter that didn’t quite get finished. It was an exact replica of one my grandmother made for me and I vividly remember her hiding it each day while I was at school so I would have to find it before going to bed.

I was putting away glassware and ran across the little A&W rootbeer mug the restaurant used to use on their kid’s menu. I think I was six.

So maybe moving isn’t all bad.

But why does a single woman need five crock pots, all in different sizes?