16

Sixteen is the up to date, I think, number of places I have resided in so far in my life. One of them, the Navy is a cumulative number. While I was in the Navy my family actually moved twice without me ever seeing the place they moved to and from...didn't count that one. I do not recommend or endorse this practice. As a matter of fact, I detest it. Leaving the old familiar places and your friends  time after time is a sure way to create a cold spot in your heart. 

Learning new streets, locations, restaurants, etc is not that difficult a task. Changing jobs, if you need to, is getting much harder as I age. But, the act of forming new friendships requires a certain trust...that you are going to be in one place for some length of time. After you move a few times this trust begins to dwindle, a bit at a time until it no longer exists.

As the oldest child, I started learning at an early age how to pack. How to load. In other words how to move. I joke about being, by heritage, a mutt...perhaps there is some Gypsy blood somewhere in the line. Ideally we would move only one more time. Ideally we would never have left there in the first place. So we can only hope for the ideal...and wish!

Every time I have moved, I've been painfully reminded of the George Carlin "stuff-box" routine, when you accumulate too much stuff you move to a bigger box! True! When I put the truck in gear and pull away from the old place, the resemblance to divorce comes into my mind, you are only taking baggage and memories with you. You need to lighten the load, only take the good stuff and the beautiful memories. Ah, if it were only that simple! I'm ok memory-wise, but there's way to much stuff out there! Believe this, the next time, is certainly the last time...I hope!