Hello, everyone. I was reading some of the home moving stories here and I must say, some of them are quite interesting. My story, while not as entertaining as some of the others, serves a unique purpose.

Several years ago, after a bitter separation followed by an even more bitter divorce from my husband of eleven years, I took the notion that perhaps a change of scenery would be good for myself and my son and daughter. After purchasing a somewhat smaller but very cute home in a town close by and selling our previous home, I discovered that the task of moving home was completely my own.

After hours and hours of endless packing, it seemed as if we were pretty much ready to go. I did not have the transportation nor the physical stamina to move everything myself, so I began to consider my options. At first, I really considered renting a moving truck and asking a few friends and close family members to pitch in and help us out. After giving it a little more consideration, I decided that it would be best for me to go ahead and hire a removal company to take care of it all. I decided this for several reasons.

To begin with, I was a little hesitant to have my father (who is no longer a spring chicken) and one or two friends attempt to move my baby grand piano. It is one of the single most important pieces of heirloom furniture (if you can call it that) that I own. It was my Grandmother’s and before that, her mother’s and before that, her mother’s. So, you can probably understand why I decided that it was best to bring in ‘the professionals’.

After some quick research on the web, I located a removalist that charged very reasonable fees. I called them up, explained my particular situation regarding the piano, and scheduled a moving date. They arrived promptly (a little early, if I recall correctly) and carefully and skillfully moved each and every piece of my furniture and belongings as if they were their own.

I followed behind them in my car to my new home and watched closely as they unloaded everything with as much ease and care as they had loaded it up. Impressed, I struck up a conversation with one of the removalists, telling him what a wonderful job they had all done and how much I appreciated it. Coincidently, he lived in the very same neighborhood. We continued to talk casually and I mentioned that we were looking for a local church where we could establish membership. Before I finished my sentence, he took a business card from his pocket and scribbled down a number.

He handed it to me and suggested that we attend his church, as his guest, at least until we had found somewhere where we were comfortable and wanted to place membership. I was flattered, and thankful for the outreach of kindness after being isolated after my divorce by so many of the friends that my former husband and I had shared.

And so I agreed and attended church with him the following Sunday. And the next Wednesday, and the next Sunday, and so forth. After two years of church services and friendship, two divorced parents of two recently formed our very own “Brady Bunch” and are now living happily ever after ‘somewhere’ in sunny Florida. I guess one could say that I got a whole lot more then I bargained for when I decided to hire a professional home moving service! Brings a whole new meaning to ‘love thy neighbour’, huh!

This entry was posted on Wednesday, July 27th, 2005 at 12:00 pm and is filed under Moving Home. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.