Mothers in the move

Packing and moving has me thinking of my mother more than the usual-as I think of her daily. We moved all the time as I grew up. Anyone who knew the Dunns knew they moved and did it well. Sometimes we moved right down the street-back in Kenwood when the working man could still live there. My Dad would fix up an old shack, and then we''d move to another one and fix that one up. I loved it. While I did have some houses I bonded with more than others, I looked at moving as an adventure, excitement, a journey. I also learned how to pack, fast and well, and efficiently. I can't tell you how many people say, "Aren't you going to get help packing?". Moving a lot also gave me the courage and freedom in my adult years to not be afraid to move, even far away to a place out West. So I feel my parents with me as we pack. I am confidant they are busy doing other things they need to do, but I have to believe they are popping in, and enjoying the familiar feel of a house in disarray, full of boxes, and packing tape.