November 13, 2017
By Anonymous

Two summers ago, I did one of the hardest things that has ever happened so far in my life.  I moved with my parents from my birthplace in the state of Minnesota to the mysterious place known as the state of Oregon.  At first, I was excited to be going to a new place, to go through something new, but as the day got closer I was just anxious.  At the time, I would describe myself as adventurous because I was excited.  Moving would change my life forever. 

I actually started the whole idea.  “Mom, I want to move to a warm place.”  I told my mom after being at my Great-Aunt’s house for yet another Christmas.
“I would love to move,” my mom replied.  “We stayed in Minnesota because of your school and friends, but if you are willing to move, we can explore possibilities.” 
“Find me a good swim team, and I’ll be fine,” I told her.  Because of this conversation and many others, we came to Oregon to check it out.  We all loved Oregon, and we decided to move after 5th grade.

I started realizing that we were actually moving once most of my clothes and other possessions were packed up in multiple brown U-Haul boxes that were varying in size.  A couple of days after I graduated from Rice Lake Elementary School, the moving truck and the two different sized trailers came to my house.  One of the two trailers was attached to the back of the moving truck.  It was the trailer that was used to take my dad’s black, beaten up Honda Accord to Oregon.  The other trailer was attached to the back of my mom’s silver Subaru Tribeca.  To make the packing of the moving truck easier for me, I went out shopping with my mom and one of my best friends at the time, Miranda.  That night, all of my friends and my parent’s friends came over to our old blue house in Lino Lakes, Minnesota to say goodbye.

“Bye, Miranda, I will miss you.  I will try to visit soon,” I said before she, her brother, and her parents walked home to her house that was just down the street.  Miranda and I had been friends for forever.  In addition to living on the same street, we were born only a month apart and shared a mutual friend, Katelin.  We always celebrated our birthdays together by going to the Mall of America until 1 a.m. or so.

“You will be able to get through the pain of missing your friends and family.  Your dad and I will help you through it.” My mom said when I was feeling depressed about moving from Minnesota that last night.

The very next morning, my parents, my dog, and I woke up to start the three day journey that would take my family and I from Minnesota to Oregon.  My dad drove the moving truck the entire distance with his car on the the trailer while my mom and I took off with the other trailer attached to her car and our golden retriever, Lia, in the back.  The entire drive took about 28 hours, which we split up into three days.  The first and second day we drove for ten hours and the last day for eight hours.  During those 28 hours of driving, we went through hills, valleys, and mountains.  One of those places was called the Painted Hills in North Dakota. 

“Wow, Mom.  This place is amazing.  Look at the beautiful colors on the hills.  I wish we could stop.”  However, we couldn’t stop because we had long way to go that day.  The first night we stopped in Miles City, Montana.  On the second day, we spent the night in Spokane Valley, Washington.  The final day we drove through the Columbia River Gorge.  We even stopped at DQ and got ice cream for us and our dog.  Lia was very annoyed by the whole trip so ice cream helped.

After three long days, we finally pulled up to the townhouse in West Linn. 

“Meg, here we are.  Welcome home,” my mom said after we arrived.  I was excited because there was a basketball hoop.  It was really hot, and we did not have any air conditioning.  That was not a fun discovery for me! 

Movers came and helped us move everything into our new home while I sat in my room on the carpet.  I was extremely happy to be finally out of the car.  I was ready to be done with the whole process.  Half of the boxes went in the garage while the others were put in the actual townhouse.  The movers set up all the furniture, such as beds, the couch and chairs, the tv, and the dining room table.  They did not unpack any of the boxes, but they did put them into the appropriate room based on my mom’s instructions.  I had to start unpacking my clothes and sheets and other things I needed that night.  The townhouse was crowded. 

Finally the ordeal was done.  Moving was really hard because of the process.  I had to deal with the emotion of missing my friends.  I learned from this experience to never give up no matter what because I had to push through the hard times that tested me.

The author's comments:

This is the story of when I moved from Minnesota to Oregon.

Similar Articles


This article has 0 comments.

Parkland Book