Going, Going, Gone!

There is a fairly well-known tradition, particularly among American Latter-day Saints, that when someone in one of our congregations, or wards, moves, the other members of the ward, usually the men between the ages of 18 and 45, help the family load up the moving van, truck, or whatever vehicle is going to be used for the move.

In some areas, families move nearby and will make several trips back and forth using minivans and trucks. Around here, in the Champaign-Urbana-Savoy area (what I lovingly call Chambanavoy but most folks just call Chambana), many families that move are going cross-country, and so they rent a U-Haul or some similar commercially-available moving truck.

From the time I was a teenager, I have been an active participant in helping with moves. Growing up in Washington, Illinois, though, it seemed we had the occasional family move in but rarely move out. So I learned how to unload a truck but didn't get much experience on the other end. While serving my mission in California, I helped with a few moves, most notably a family whose apartment got smoked out when the apartment above theirs had an electrical fire and my mission companion and I helped them move all of their things from one apartment to another. (One other person, other than the couple moving, helped, too.)

When I moved to Champaign, the first few years were spent living in apartments with single guys. We didn't have a lot, and what we had we moved on our own. The girls who moved were also fairly self-sufficient in this area. So it wasn't really until Gretch and I got married that I became fully vested in the helping-families-move-in-or-out project.

Due to living in an area with a lot of graduate students, we have a lot of families move in and out in our congregation. Since getting married, I have helped several dozen families move in, move out, or move around. Gretch and I have moved three times since we got married: first when we moved in together (and we just had a few friends help us), then we moved out of our first place and put everything in storage in her parents' garage, and then when we moved into our current residence. We are hoping to move again next year and then expect to stay put for at least five years, if not longer.

Whenever I hear of friends in the area who are moving, I will offer to help, making sure they know that I simply will not take no as an answer. There has only been one time that I have offered to help that I had to back out at the last minute, and that was a few weeks ago after Gretch's surgery. Otherwise, if you know me, you live near me, and you are moving, chances are that I will be there to help you. I've been walking home and seen a neighbour loading a trailer all by himself and immediately stopped and helped him finish. (He and his wife had not even finished packing, so I called Gretch and we lovingly took charge; the couple had been trying to move out on their own and had been working nonstop for nearly 12 hours, so they were frazzled and therefore appreciated our help.) Another family had a small trailer and had divided their belongings into three piles: must-take, would-like-to-take, and will-have-to-leave-behind-because-it-won't-possibly-fit. As you may have figured out, I have become quite adept at loading moving vans, trucks, and trailers. Not only did we get everything in the first group loaded, we got everything in the second group and a big chunk of the last group! My policy has always been that of Cinderella's stepsisters: I'll make it fit! (But don't worry, I don't break anything in the process!)

So yesterday was another moving day. Not for me. Not for someone in my church. Not for a neighbour. For Gretch's best friend. She is going to school at Illinois State University in Bloomington-Normal (lovingly known as Blormal to some), and happened to tell Gretch about her moving day when I was around. I insisted on helping. Her parents picked up the U-Haul van and Gretch and I came over. While she and her best friend brought out the boxes to the living room, her dad and mom brought them to the van and I began loading. At one point Gretch said, "Oh, I don't know if this will all fit in such a small van!"

As Barney Stinson would say, "Challenge: accepted!"

Oh, it fit. With plenty of room to spare! I could have fit a bed and a couch in there if needed!

So now Gretch's best friend is no longer down the street and around the corner. They've been best friends since high school and I sincerely doubt a measly detail such as being 50 miles apart will have an impact on their friendship, other than limiting the number of times they can go shopping together or go out for Pad Thai. While they navigate their newly-established long-distance best-friendship, I'll be taking a break from moving. Doesn't look like I've got anyone on the calendar for another two weeks!