The Challenges Of Military Moves

Moving. The mere thought of packing up ones existence and relocating to a completely new place might send some shuddering off in fear. However the act of moving no longer frightens me. I have become nomadic. I get anxious when I think of the time in our future where we no longer pack up the house every few years and head out on a new journey.
I am not sure that I would qualify myself as an expert on moving, though I am accustomed to it. Even before marrying into the military realm of “just when you get comfortable you move” way of life I lived in a series of college dorm rooms and apartments. I once fit all of my belongings in my two-door hatchback while I waited for my new apartment to become available.
Yet, living the transitory lifestyle of the current Air Force brings upon a whole set of challenges. One cannot fully appreciate each obstacle until you are right in the middle of it. A big test for me has been furniture shopping. We have an allotted weight limit for each move. If you go over the weight limit you can expect to pay out of pocket for the difference. Since we were right at our limit during our last move I have become obsessed with the weight of any new furniture we purchase. What comes into our house must replace items that were already here. Our new table and chair set replaced the old set plus two bar stools.
My husband thinks I’m a little fanatical about it and I admit I probably am. But barring my bringing an industrial-sized scale into furniture stores I will continue to fret about our weight limit and dream about our forever home which I will furnish with massive furniture that requires four bodybuilders to move.
Another challenge is the delicate subject of whether or not to feed the moving company’s crew. These are the people who will see everything you own. It’s humbling to know that complete strangers touch every item I possess as they box up my home. So, we play nice and buy the doughnuts in the morning and pizza for lunch. Several kinds of soda are stocked in the coolers for the movers to take freely. It’s as if we are making an offering to the gods in the hope that everything placed on the moving truck will be unloaded in the same condition we last saw it in.
Although we are not moving this summer our turn is around the corner. I am slowly beginning the process of weeding out the extras in our home. As a reformed pack-rat I no longer consider myself a curator of material items but hopefully a purveyor of what really matters: children who know the value of family strength and a household that can function wherever our next journey will take us to.