The Move from Hell with Glimpses of Heaven

Yes, I am back. The last three months have not exactly been what one might call either a sabbatical or a real vacation. Most of my allotted time was spent on the telephone or writing letters to the moving company and to the apartment management offices. I feel blessed my introduction to Oklahoma City was warm and welcoming from everyone except those two entities.

One of my good friends mentioned things could have been much worse. Not the events themselves, but what if I had been working? She was right. Depressing as it seemed at the time to have my sabbatical and vacation time frittered away by nonsense, it's a good thing I had the time to devote to the nonsense. I haven't a clue how I would have time to follow up with various moving and storage people, rent another place to live, and coordinate another move. 

Yes, a second move. The first apartment I rented in Oklahoma City was without doubt the worst rental experiences of my adult life. I have owned three homes but the bulk of my life has been spent in rental property because of my peripatetic career and subsequent vocation. Now and then I have encountered a landlord who did not take proper care of his property, or let's face it, was either cheap or lazy about maintenance. But again, most of my landlords or landladies have been wonderful people. In return I have always tried to leave a rental in better shape than I found it. One really great landlord actually reimbursed me after I moved out, saying he could now charge more rent after the painting and fixing I had done.

The primary lesson I learned throughout this experience was patience. God is onto me, folks. I am not by nature a patient person and thus the lesson of patience gets repeated frequently. I am blessed that I was able to remain patient throughout the entire ordeal, not visiting my frustration on people whose fault it was not, nor being unnecessarily sharp with others out of frustration. The one day I was in grave danger, I escaped to a quilt shop. I fondled fabric, spoke to a quilter working that day, and was welcomed yet again to Oklahoma City. I left with a spool of grey thread and the misplaced idea that I might have time to do some quilting. A blessing all the same.

At some point I may tell the entire narrative of the moving company and the two moves in less than three months, but for the time being I am sitting with the idea of unexpected blessings.