Lugging.
It is defined this way: “To carry a heavy object with great effort.”
I already know this will be the death of me.
Even in death, I have a feeling I will still be lugging stuff on the trip up or down, as it were.
My sister and I packed my mom’s purse (for her last trip) with a few possible necessities like a credit card — just in case there is good shopping there.
But, I digress.
I cannot go anywhere without a purse so heavy that it lengthens my arms like an orangutan.
There are always shopping bags full of stuff going somewhere. Gifts, snacks, drinks, extra underwear…you name it, it’s going with me.
And on the return trip, it is always worse.
By then, I have accumulated new stuff, and so I lug that into the house.
As I have noticed everything is heavy. Kitty litter is heavy. Even the lighter containers are still heavy.
Cases of water? Forget it! I have to leave it in the car and drag it out a bottle at a time. (Yes, I know I should be drinking my tap water and not buying plastic.)
Laundry detergent, windshield washer stuff, cauliflower — heavy, heavy, heavy!
When I get it home, there’s the horrible effort required to unload the car and drag it all in the house.
I am that person who will try to carry as many bags as possible in one shot. Why? I have no clue, except I don’t want to do it more than once. It is the only real weightlifting I do.
I think the next good idea for service should be renting out men, women, children or large dogs who will come and carry my junk indoors for me. I think I would pay for that.
They have support animals for other stuff. How about a nice big strong Lab or German shephard wearing a harness I could load down with junk?
I know this is whiny. I should be grateful I can lift at all. I get that.
So, looking at this from a different angle, it occurred to be how difficult emotional lifting can be.
I realized that other than in my everyday chores, I really don’t notice things being that heavy in my life.
Why is that? That’s because someone else in my life has always done the heavy lifting.
As we head into Mother’s Day weekend, think about how your mom or mother figure carried you and your burdens for you. She literally carried you and she likely did that throughout your life and beyond her own.
How many millions of times did she lift your burdens?
Nothing worked better or faster than a call home to Mom.
Can you even count how often your girlfriends raised you up and out of despair?
Women show up. They listen. They lift. They carry.
More often than not, they also show up with wine and flowers and salty snacks, too.
They do it all while lugging their own baggage around.
It seems they can shoulder huge amounts of weight. Like superheroes.
Women are special like that.
Look around in every home, workplace, festival, church, community group and you will see women lifting, carrying, hauling, schlepping, supporting and raising the energy in the room.
Funny thing is, when they are dragging their own junk around they get weary but when they are helping you drag yours, they don’t seem to tire.
Thank you to all of those who have helped lighten my load.
Happy Mother’s Day!
