Twenty years ago, my husband and I, our four children, and our basset hound, Wobegon closed the door to our house in Philipsburg, Pennsylvania for the very last time and drove to our new home in Richmond, Indiana. I was sporting a full leg cast (a skating accident…don’t ask!) so I had to sit in the back with my leg extended between the two front seats. Also in the car was our son, Sean’s, bicycle which had mysteriously appeared in our driveway AFTER the moving van had departed. It was not a pleasant drive. The dog drooled, my broken leg hurt, and we were packed into our van so tightly we could hardly move.
When the moving van met us at the house, the Lazy Boy was the first item to be unloaded. I had the movers set it on the sidewalk at the bottom of the stairs leading to our house and I directed the move in a full reclining position. My parents, who had come to help us and who had moved in their lives almost as often as we had moved in ours, sweated in the heat and hauled stuff in and tried to keep the dog happy…while I sat.
When the sun got unbearable, the movers created a canopy for me out of one of the packing boxes. A new neighbor who was out walking HER basset hound stopped by my canopy to say hello. She said she just had to meet a woman who would do this.
Twenty years ago, I couldn’t imagine living in any one place for longer than three or four years before moving on. But somehow, we have managed it and thrived. Our house here in Richmond started out full of children and then, over the years, emptied. The swing set out back has long since been replaced by a garden lovingly planted by my husband. My leg has healed, the dog has died, we have acquired a host of friends. Twenty years later we are still here, still happy…