Moving Day

My wife may have small shoulders but they can bear the weight of mountains.

And thus our daughter and her family have relocated, nearly seamlessly, to their new home. Over the course of the last two days, as two young children and their parents settled in, there was the constant of a woman on a mission. As it seems she is always on a mission.

The recipients of her beneficence were, as always, beyond grateful. A little bit awed, but by this point, well used to her making the slightly impossible appear as nearly routine.

My designated duties, as is my perpetual role, to try to avoid doing any damage and to stay out of the way as much as humanly possible. 

She is a one person moving crew. Able to transport, build, organize, separate and turn straw into gold.

We stand as point and counterpoint. Two extremes of the spectrum. Definitions of capacity and something so far less it almost defies description.

Our son in law stated he doesn't know where his family would be without my wife. And then added, he meant me, of course. Quick to remind me that I share a role of equal import as emotional ballast and designated child chaser from NJ to California (otherwise known as kitchen to living room). Maybe there is truth and wisdom in his words.

Sure.

And so the cupboards are filled in precise arrangement, the beds are made and everything is in its place. All tucked in, as if it has forever been thus. 

I am a one person wrecking crew, leaving in my wake evidence of everything I am, or more accurately, what I am not. She is the magician making my mistakes disappear.

And turning a house into a home before our very eyes.

Each of us has a lot in life. Hers is just a lot more than mine.