My daughter and her husband moved this week. They've moved about two hours away. Yes, in Southern California, we measure distance by driving time, not by mileage. If I were foolish enough to try driving to her new place during rush hour, it would take four hours. There won't be any more popping over to each other's house for a quick visit.
Monday will be their first anniversary, and they'll spend it in a beautiful house they're renting. I praise God for being the source of their love, their happiness, and providing for their needs.
In addition to packing the library, I sat on the couch and wrapped whatever they stacked before me. Ya gotta understand a few things: Kelly is an author, too, so her research library is awe-inspiring. Her hubby, Shannan, is a professional chef. They own ever possible kitchen gadget, whatnot, gizmo, cookbook, and appliance. Thankfully, everything for his catering business was packed and ready to go! In addition to those professional items, there are all the knickknacks, souvenirs, decorating accents, doodads, and thingamabobs. All of their possessions filled a massive twenty-four foot moving truck.
Oh--and the movers were four burly dudes from Kazakhstan who looked as if they could easily pull the truck on their own. I won't be surprised in the least to see one of them in the Olympics!
HOW DID THE COVERED WAGON WOMEN SURVIVE? I don't mean the grinding,
dangerous trip. It's parting that had to be so soul searing. Most women
went because the husband or father decided the family would go. "Whithersoever thou goest,
I will go..." (Someone might have pointed out that Ruth said that to
her mother-in-law, not her husband.) But once the man spoke, there was
Only absolute necessities went into a prairie schooner: Food, tools, bedding, clothing, a sewing kit, and basic cookware. Since a schooner was only four feet wide and ten-to-twelve feet long, space was at a premium, but weight was a greater consideration. Everything pound in the wagon lessened the chance of reaching Oregon.
Books are heavy, so a Bible and schoolbooks got packed and all others were given away or sold. Dutch ovens, a kettle, a pot, a skillet, and a coffee pot were essential. Dried vegetables, fruit, and meat, spices cornmeal, flour, rice, beans, lard and coffee filled a majority of the wagon. Weapons, water barrels, and medicinals.... a washtub and washboard, and quilts....
and then, perhaps, a few little carefully chosen treasures...
Fortunately, Kelly and Shannan got to take everything along. But as I wrapped Kelly's little things, I realized each one meant something to her. It held a memory, was a gift from someone she holds dear, or represented special moments in her life. Little things mean a lot. Small things can be big, can't they?
From now on, a small cell phone is going to mean a lot between us.
Blessings to you all,