A year ago my mother and my brothers and I were all concentrating on moving my parents from their home and their hometown of many years to a smaller home close to my brother. It was a very large undertaking.My mother grew very tired after so many hours of packing and sorting. She spent many hours of keep, give away, trash. I don’t know if the exhaustion was worse from all the physical labor or if it was from the emotional trauma of saying goodbye to so many things. Each thing was a memory. She lived through so many memories as she touched each item and had to decide. Do I keep it? Can someone else use it? Or should I put it in the trash?Many things were put out by the street where my mom and dad would see them disappear. I can’t help think that there were those in heaven watching and praying for each person who took the items. Praying that the items would be used for good.My brothers made the trip to my parent’s home to help with the sorting and packing. One brother came from Illinois. One brother came from Wisconsin. One brother came from Georgia. And I came from California. We converged one by one or in one case as two on their home in Arkansas. There were many travel plans to make and many for which to pray.In the end, the house was sold. A new home approved and purchased. Two men and a truck were engaged. Flights and rental cars set. A schedule was presented. In less than a week we all left home to converge in Arkansas and Illinois to fill up the truck, clean and say goodbye to a home filled with paintings by my mom.I stayed to clean the house and get it ready for the new owners. My daughter was with me. My brother from Georgia went straight to Illinois to help prepare the home for my parents. My brother from Wisconsin drove the huge truck to Illinois. My brother from Illinois drove my parents to Illinois. We all had our jobs. We all tried to help as much as we could. We hugged and cried and said goodbye to an era of our lives. My parents are adjusting to a new climate, a new church, and new schedules.And now, my husband’s parents are moving. Unfortunately, he is an only child. He hasn’t been able to call on any brothers or sisters to help. So he has flown out to New Mexico several times to help pack and sort. He has discussed things on the phone over and over. And his mom is working very hard at packing and sorting and making decisions. The house is sold and the moving date is approaching. We are calling on our children to help with the move and to drive the truck.This home has been the only home in the last 52 years. This is the only home my husband remembers where his parents have lived. It is hard to say goodbye and this is such a beautiful home! The yard is gorgeous and the screened in porch has been a great haven of rest. It’s beautiful even in the winter.Stay tuned for the saga of the next move from New Mexico to Missouri.