Packing, Schmacking

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It was in June two years ago that we found out that my mom was sick, and in June last year that we lost her. Finding any up-side in a loss this substantial seems almost impossible but, from time to time, small things pop up.

Like packing.

In the year that my mom was sick, I made a lot of trips between my home in Pennsylvania and the place I'll always think of as home, New Jersey. I got really good at putting a couple of days worth of clothes and necessities into their various bags in short order, a life skill that comes in handy when I'm packing for vacation or another destination that doesn't require me to give much thought to wardrobe that's anything but casual.

Unfortunately, this has also created a false sense of confidence about my packing speed, which only feeds my packing procrastination, both of which puzzle (and sometimes annoy) my husband.

This weekend, we're doing some traveling, so last night, my husband spent close to two hours packing. I haven't even started yet -- unless you count doing laundry, or making mental lists. I've got lots of those.

In my defense, there are things I need to do before our departure -- tasks whose deadlines will come and go long before we do. This blog post, for example, and prep for my class tomorrow morning.

It's in these moments that I'm grateful for the packing experience all those trips to Jersey provided. Though the chore of packing looms, the shortcuts I've created (pre-packed toiletries, for example), combined with the knowledge that I really can throw most of what I need into a bag in under 30 minutes (provided what I need is clean) help me to put thoughts of suitcases (mostly) aside while I do the things that need to be done first.

Pixabay

When I finally check that last prerequisite off my list and drag my bag upstairs to fill it, I'll approach the task in my usual I need to see it fashion, laying out piles in categories (shorts, jeans, tops, etc.) before transferring them to the suitcase. I might even go super simple and pack nothing but solid bottoms and black and white tees so everything mixes and matches. When the piles are gone, I'm finished.

And if I'm not, there's always shopping.

Of that, I know my mom would approve.