Esotropiart

Last weekend (August 3rd to 5th), my family pooled resources to move my grandparents up to Portland from Gold Beach. Over the last few months, my parents have undertaken a serious house addition to house my mom's parents. I am glad that my grandparents will be more accessible, but it was kind of sad for me to say good bye to "Grandma's House".

See the album for more photos from the trip.

Visit my Dad's blog for more details about the trip and some great photos.

My grandparents have moved a number of times through the years, as my Grandpa was a pastor. Despite all the moves, there was one home that we all knew as their ultimate home, it was their Gold Beach house. They kept possession of the property from long before I was born. Now it is on the market, cleared of nearly all my grandparents' possessions.

I hadn't thought much about the psychological impact the move would have, mostly on me. Perhaps my grandparents are mostly used to change and resolved to it. It simply felt strange to see those empty rooms. This place where we gathered as a family so many times, especially at Christmas, now appeared bare and void of charm that the collected relics radiated.

My dad and I drove down together early Saturday morning. They needed my hands to help move. They also needed an extra driver since they would be driving an extra vehicle, the moving truck. We made it to Gold Beach at a decent hour in the early afternoon and set to work soon afterward, moving boxes and furniture into the moving truck. Fortunately my mom and aunt had already been there helping my grandma prepare all the boxes to be loaded. It was a fairly smooth operation, and we had the house pretty much emptied in one afternoon. The pastor of their church and his daughter also helped tremendously.

I was fortunate to have about an hour's down time to take a stroll on the beach (about 2-3 blocks away). Gold Beach has a nice beach, a bit more natural than those on the north coast, where tourism has lured countless visitors. There are still mounds of driftwood and rocks to adorn (some would say litter) the sand.

Saturday evening we gathered for perhaps the last traditional meal at Dairy Queen in Gold Beach. My aunt used to work at this restaurant, so it used to be a tradition to visit her there. Now she works in the kitchen at the hospital, so we often eat there (we ate breakfast there Sunday morning, though she wasn't working at the time). After breakfast Sunday morning we packed a few leftover items (like a couch and clothes) into the moving truck and headed down the road. Our cars formed quite the caravan, 5 vehicles in all. I drove my dad's work van and was able to keep ahead of the caravan.

The caravan stopped in Salem at my cousin's place to drop off some furniture designated for her. I was first there, so I relaxed and visited with my cousin and her husband until everyone else "arrived". In fact, my aunt had a very bad flat tire on I-5, and my dad, cousin and I went to rescue her.

After recovering from the flat tire, we headed toward Portland, immediately getting stuck in horrible road construction traffic on I-5. We didn't all end up getting back to my parents' house until 11:00 or so at night. Because of the late hour, we decided not to unload my grandparents' belongings. My uncle was there to pick up my aunt, so we all had pizza, and my uncle took me home.