Missus and Migrant | Packing Peeves and Reminders of my Roots

Welcome to the inaugural run of the #TrailingSpouseStories blog crawl hosted by Tala Ocampo and Didi of D for Delicious.

This November we talk about our First Voyage as trailing spouses and what we've brought with us, rather; what's in your suitcase?

Please see the end of the post for other #TrailingSpouseStories

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For the Big Move, Mr A and I only had a total baggage allowance of 60 kg. That may seem a lot – but since he decided to bring his bicycle (15 kg) and his Mac (20 kg) – and that pretty much left us with just 15 kg for clothes and everything else.

I had no qualms about the limited amount of shoes I’d be able to bring, really. I was actually looking forward to trimming down my wardrobe to the bare essentials. Packing for this move allowed me to de-clutter and detach.

What I did find difficult was to leave the packing duties to Mr A.

See, if it had been up to me, everything would have been neatly folded and organized into labelled Ziploc baggies.  But alas, there were no Ziplocs. Mr A’s  packing philosophy involved rolling things up and then stuffing and squeezing them into all the available crevices of the box (which was mainly occupied by the computer) and the big bag (which also carried  the bike).  I had some sleepless nights thinking about how my shoes would be sharing the same space with my underwear.

Even so, I chose not to make a fuss about the whole packing business. To Mr A’s credit, his ability to compress stuff into tiny spaces in record time meant we did not spend our remaining days just packing things.

Besides, I still had my one carry-on bag that was all mine to pack. 

Not that I had too many things to put in a Ziploc. Aside from the travel toiletries and gadgets, these were the contents of my carry-on on that First Voyage:

I call these “The Reminders of my Roots”:

An assortment of letters & cards from family and friends (Ziplocked)
My journal, a dozen or so entries away from being filled up (inner compartment)
A blank journal, un-ruled (inner compartment)
Three small notebooks, for making lists (Ziplocked)
A rosary (front pocket)

In the hope of building a better life and finding my corner of the sky, I was uprooting myself from all things familiar -it was essential that I never lost sight of my truths. It was important that I stayed connected with people and practices that have made me who I am. 

On the whole, I am quite at peace here. This is a beautiful country, after all. And of course, as long as I am with Mr A, I am always home. But as with any transition, the feelings of displacement and loss come.  And when they do, I turn to the things that remind of my roots.  I take out my journal and write things down. I take out my rosary and pray. I write to my family. I message my friends. I am reminded that wherever I am, I am loved. That thought centers me.

Mr A and I unpacked 20 weeks ago. I trust that just as the perceived chaos of my husband’s packing eventually led to shoes and underwear being in their rightful places, so it shall be with our life in this new world.

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Jenny's story on MyMommyology

Marc's story on Fatherland

Tala's story on Tala Ocampo

Shine's story also on Tala's blog

Nix's story on Driving Spiderman

Glendale's story on My "Kandy" Crush

Tracy's story on Tala's blog

Milen's story on Tala's blog

Didi's story on D for Delicious

Cath's story on D for Delicious