My Mom packs for moving

When we moved into my folks’ house in Kerrville, we found all kinds of items my mom left behind when my parents downsized and moved into a retirement community. Mom didn’t just leave us the odd item here and there, or even the odd sofa; there are many, many boxes, some of which were packed in 1984 when they moved out of the house in Houston that I grew up in. And my mom really knows how to pack.

Mom’s of the thrifty Depression generation, so everything’s worth saving and preserving: bags, foil, boxes, plastic bags, jars, old rags—everything. This is doubled, in spades, for anything durable and potentially useful. You name it: if my mom didn’t take it with her, chances are that it’s in the garage somewhere, as likely as not in its original box. I can go out there right now and grab headphones from 1972, an answering machine from 1990, a screwdriver or two from 1960, and my dad’s foot locker from his postwar stint in the Merchant Marine.

Much of it, as I say, is wrapped up as only my mom can wrap things. Usually, boxes are double-taped; once inside, the unpacker is confronted with vast amounts of old newspaper protecting the actual contents, which are themselves labeled and individually wrapped. At a bare minimum, unwrapping an item involves cutting through heavy box tape to take the newspaper off; however, if the item is remotely breakable, it’s usually wrapped in paper, taped, then wrapped in a plastic bag and taped again.

Naturally, the more breakable an item is, the better wrapped. To get to an 18” glass table top, we had to take off the outer plastic bag, then the inner paper bag. Below that was a layer of bubble wrap, which protected a layer of newspaper, under which we found aluminum foil, then an old ragged towel, another paper bag, and another layer of newspaper. Each layer was individually and thoroughly taped, all the way around, crosswise.

Mom also has a mania for documentation. I opened a box the other day. The outside was labeled in Mom’s graceful handwriting:

BILL
Household Items
VERY FRAGILE

A note on the inside flap of the box provides an inventory: “Clara’s bowl; Aunt Willie’s plate; Mama’s silverware; NSD costume jewelry; knickknacks; bric-a-brac.” Weirdly, this isn’t complete enough. Not that I don’t know a bowl from a plate or silverware from costume jewelry, but damn if I can tell knickknacks from bric-a-brac.