Cedar Rapids Iowans...

Eleven days ago I wrote down a few thoughts about moving to Iowa. Packing up a house into boxes in the back room is one thing, but actually moving it all 1000 miles is something completely different.

We got up at 4:00 A.M. on Thursday and packed the remainder of our belongings into a full uHaul and Ford Escort (with its front wheels strapped to the car dolly). We crowded the dogs into the front seat with us and drove to the gas station at 5:00 A.M. where I had my first attempt at filling up a 17 ft. truck with a car on a dolly close behind.

By ten o'clock we were five hours into our trip and crossing into Oklahoma. The trip itself was memorable--insomuch as it was my first 17 ft. truck drive and that in and of itself was stressful--but we drove through Oklahoma, Kansas, Missouri, and Iowa so I didn't see anything really worthy of note.

In an attempt to find our hotel in Kansas City, we took an exit that sent us directly into a residential district. I had to drive uphill in the snow on a road lined with parked cars on both sides. It was the most stressful drive of my life. At one point I had to pull in my mirrors to inch past an SUV, but we made it safe and sound.

Our apartment is half underground near the parking lot, so we moved at least two thirds of the truck contents on the first day (Friday) through the bedroom window. In the morning, we tackled the larger furniture (desk, couch, bed frame pieces, table) with the help of some upstairs neighbors who happened to see us unloading.

The kitchen is completely unpacked (to our knowledge) and most other rooms, save the office, are well on their way. We still have addresses to change, forms to fill, and furniture to purchase, but we're well on our way to being real residents of Iowa.

Musing on Moving

Packing a house provides a unique prospective on life.

I practically grew up packing. Every four years we'd move from Indonesia to travel around America for a few months, and in sixth grade, I began moving countries four times a year (Christmas and summer breaks). When I graduated high school and moved to college, I moved almost all I owned to a dorm room, and each semester, I'd move it out and back again.

Each time I moved, I would think about how similar my life was to that of a nomad and how this life is only the beginning of an eternal journey. But this is the first time I've packed up a whole house. This is the first time I've moved while married.

This time is different. I now have a family to move (my wife and two dogs). I am the provider moving my tribe to more suitable lands. It's a difficult thing to describe, this feeling. I suppose I never noticed just how self-centered all my previous moves have been. I have never needed to find a place near a park or considered purchasing a vehicle based on children I won't have for years to come. I have never before been responsible for someone else in a move.

I suppose this is what it is to be a leader--to be a husband.