The Move

My Childhood Home

Change is hard. Exciting, but hard. There are certain parts of my life that I wish would remain static, never changing, always exactly as I remember them. But life doesn't really work that way, does it?

I spent my entire childhood in Carrollton, Missouri. Except for a few years as a young child, all of those years were spent in our little house at 703 N. Ely. It was a simple little house without any bells and whistles. Believe it or not, we didn't have air conditioning. Ever. Not during the horribly hot summer of 1980 when we moved into the basement to find relief from the oppressive heat. Not during the more recent hot summers. With my new air-conditioning sensitive body, I can't imagine how we survived the summers without it. My parents bought the house for $18000 almost forty years ago. When they bought the house it had only two bedrooms, but eventually we remodeled the attic and added two more bedrooms, one for me and one for my brothers. The house expanded one more time when we tore off the roof, raised it four feet, and built four rooms in the new second story. That was an adventure. We did all of the work ourselves when I was in junior high. After we had torn off the room, my parents went away for a few days for some conference somewhere, leaving my brothers and I in charge. Of course, as soon as they left, a giant rain storm came up. It was going to be a major disaster. Luckily a few people from the community brought over some tarps, the storm didn't end up being that bad, and disaster was diverted.

I have so many memories of my home there. We lived in city limits, but we were on the very edge of town with lots of land in the back. Our neighbors had cows. We had a horrible goat for a few years. Stinky, hateful Clyde the goat. We had a barn and a chicken house and an out building that we called the play house. We played baseball in the field. My dad had a huge garden. We had fruit trees and honey bees. We had a little train that used to go through the neighborhood when I was real little before they shut down that line. We mowed the whole property by hand ... all the way until last year. Lots and lots of memories.

Yesterday began a new chapter for my family as I helped my parents move to our area, leaving their home of almost forty years to begin a new adventure in their lives. And it was hard.

Herman and I have felt for a while that my parents needed to move here to be closer to us. Mom is struggling more and more with the bipolar disorder that has plagued her for the last fifteen years. Have I said it before? MENTAL ILLNESS SUCKS!!!!! I hate it! It has gotten progressively and increasingly worse in the last two years. My poor father has had to be the primary caretaker for Mom, and it has not been easy. To add to everything, my brother Ryan is there as well. Ryan has cerebral palsy, and he needs assistance for about everything. As both of my parents have gotten older, this has become more difficult. We have worried about them and wanted to help, but it has been hard for my parents to make the final decision to move.

Things changed in the last month after my dad suffered a heart attack and was rushed to the emergency room in Kansas City. Because my mom is really not doing well, she was unable to help at all. I rushed up to Carrollton with Spencer a few weeks ago. I left 14 year-old Spencer in charge of my mom and brother while I drove Dad to the Carrollton ER. Then I headed up to KC when they transported Dad by ambulance to North KC Hospital. This experience led my dad to really feel like he needed to be closer to us. Luckily we had just purchased a duplex in St. Robert that was a perfect fit for them. Ryan would be able to live in the downstairs area as a little apartment, and my parents could have the upstairs. It would be a really good match.  Dad decided to make the change.

I think that moving was hard for Dad because he was having to make so many of the decisions on his own. My mom has always been the organizer and the planner of the family. When we did anything, Mom would have sat down and planned it all out. Dad provided the muscle. Now Dad was having to do all the planning. He did pretty good, but it was stressing him out, and I didn't want for the stress to hurt him so soon after his heart surgery. I told Dad to sit back and relax and let the Blau Moving Crew take charge. We are experienced. And we're skilled. And we're cheap.

Friday Herman, Laney, Spencer and I headed to Carrollton, picked up a U-Haul truck, and got to work. We were FAST. The whole house was packed and loaded in two hours. Two hours! It was so much smoother than I expected. Mom was in a daze for most of the time, so she didn't mind that we were moving beds and boxes and tables out of the house. By Friday evening we were ready to go, but we decided to stay the night and leave early the next day.

On Saturday morning we walked room to room, making sure that everything was packed and ready to go. That's when it hit me. My parents were leaving my home. It would never be the same again. My kids would never again come to Grandma and Grandpa's house to color eggs on the Friday before Easter. They would not wake up early to go outside and hunt for the eggs that Grandpa hid earlier in the morning. There would be no more times seeing the kids run through the huge side yard, playing baseball or soccer or football. I wouldn't see the adorable white squirrels that run up our trees. I wouldn't get to walk through our little pet cemetery where my kitty Oliver, and our dogs Petunia and Pumpkin and Jackie and countless other Landis pets are buried. No more yummy mulberry tree raids. No more barefoot walks through the luscious and thick grass of our yard. I wouldn't comment again on how incredibly bright the street lights are in Carrollton. Seriously, I have never seen such bright lights. It is like standing under a huge full moon every night of the year. Every room holds a memory for me. I was not ready for this change. I cried. A lot. Herman was sweet and comforted me a lot, but he reminded me that it was ten times harder for my dad to make this decision, so I needed to be strong. So I was. But it was hard.

The hardest part of the day came when I came upon a box filled with letters that my mom had written to my grandma. I pulled out a few that she wrote in 1991. As I read her words I heard the woman who I knew as my mom. I haven't heard that voice in so many years. I thought about how this was only twenty years ago. Grandma was still alive and totally healthy. Mom was about my age now and totally healthy. In just five short years everything would be totally different. I was devastated thinking about how quickly life changes. I mourned for the loss of the mom I had growing up. I mourned for the lost health of both of my parents. I mourned for the loss of my childhood. And now the house was going too. I wish life didn't have to be so difficult sometimes ... but where would the challenge in life be then? Without the trials we don't recognize the tender mercies of the Lord in our life, do we? And we have found so many tender mercies through this experience. I just hate that mental illness has to be involved. If I get the chance to make my own world someday I don't think I'll let this be an option. It sucks. For everyone involved.

After a bit of difficulty, everyone got to St. Robert and moved in. It is going to be wonderful having Grandma and Grandpa and Uncle Ryan so close. Ryan is going to be glad to have a way to escape his mom and dad every once in a while. Dad will like having someone to help share the burden a bit. I think that Mom would like it too once she gets in a right mind. I know that the kids are super excited to have them in town. We'll make it work.

Change is hard. But sometimes it is necessary. I know that this will be the right situation for our family at this time. Hopefully there will be many, many happy years together to come. Bring it on!

My mom and dad in front of their house in easier times. Love them!