The move went very well. In less than 24 hours from the movers leaving, we had a fully functional bedroom and kitchen. Having finely honed our moving skills such as we have, it seems wasteful if we don't move every week or so.
Riding in the vans with the movers got me considering about how privileged my life is. Gus was driving. Our removal was the second of his day, which took about 5 hours, not including driving to and from the job. The move itself included an hour drive between flats and carrying our belongings up two flights of stairs. After that, Gus drove to Wimbledon in rush hour to park the van, so that probably took 1.5 hours, at least. After that he drove home to Wembley. That's another hour.
I realise that my job is not for everyone. There are many difficult aspects including witnessing personal loss in a manner and on a scale most people in this very wealthy and prosperous nation never consider. I wonder if Gus could peer into one of my work day in the manner that I just peered into his if he would think how blessed he is to have his job. I cannot claim the ability to see into other men's souls. But I hope that vantage into mine shows true appreciation for Gus' contribution toward getting my beloved and me into our new home. Handling the entirety of other people's earthly possessions requires a certain amount of care, integrity and empathy, not to mention physical strength. I imagine some removals are the result of job loss, or divorce, or death of loved one. Gus has a very important job and ample opportunity to do lots of good for others. But for me, watching Gus very adeptly and professionally get my belongings from Surrey to Hertfordshire helps me to appreciate the contribution I get to make to my community in my job. I can only hope that Gus feels the same way.
Photo Credit: Moving Locations
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