Moving date fixed

Boyfriend Maiyuu reckons we will move to our new condo by Sunday.

In the market, he has spoken to a man with a truck and crew for hire. They will take our boxes from the condo, pack them on their six-wheel truck, then move them our condo in town.

For the five men, we will pay a fee of B300 each. On top of that, we pay B1500 for the hire of the truck. The total price is B3000.

Can they fit it all on their truck? I hope so.

Last night, Maiyuu packed a few boxes of items which live under the stereo and TV. He has yet to start on his kitchen and cooking ware, which will need another two or three boxes.

I am relieved that we finally have a moving date. Yesterday I spent a couple of hours packing things in my room. That's on top of the two or three hours in put in last week.

Why did I think moving would be a simple job?

It's been nine years since I last moved. The last time I packed up my life was shortly before my journey here.

I had to move my things out of my last home before selling it. Some things, I sold; others, I gave to my partner; still others I stored at my parents' house.

Parents end up storing the relics of their children's lives. We park our belongings with Mum and Dad because we are too pre-occupied at the time to sell them.

We are often at a turning point of their lives - about to move cities, start new jobs, embark on overseas adventures.

My parents must have at least a dozen boxes stored under the house belonging to my brother, sisters and me. They sit there in the damp, years after year.

Some go back a long time. The last time I ventured down there, I found university books; clothes which I had forgotten, books I never want to read again, music (LPs, cassettes) which I loved back then but would not contemplate playing now.

What happens when Mum and Dad want to move? They have a big job.

Once, my father called to ask if he could throw out the school notes and books which I had stacked on their shelves of their previous home.

I was overseas, but said Yes. I would never read them again. What was the point?

Here, in the room around me, I have piled unwanted clothes into three large rubbish bags, and unwanted books into a large box.

If no one wants them, I shall throw them all out after Sunday.

It's time to start collecting again. Who knows how many more years will pass before we move again.

I am sure we will have memories to toss out on that occasion, too.