Taking nails out of walls

It isn't the boxes.  It isn't paint and joint compound.  It isn't leases or mortgages or contracts.  It isn't calling in favors or offering people pizza and beer to carry stuff.  It isn't sitting on the floor, ordering delivery or wondering where the plates are.  I have memories of all of these things from my moves and the moves of others, but they are not what I think of when I think of moving.

It's taking nails, screws, hooks, and fasteners out of walls.  From dorm rooms, to apartments, to offices, to houses, looking around for the hardware that was used to hang posters, diplomas, degrees, plaques, mirrors, hooks, shelves, prints, and shadow boxes.  Removing the claim you staked on the property.  Pulling memories from the wall.  Patching the holes that were made long ago but have been hidden.

Because someone else will come.  Someone else will drive a nail into the wall.  They deserve the right to choose where to put the nail.  They will have memories to hang on the wall.  They will make the place their home.

You carry your memories with you.  Some may never hang on a wall again.  But when you arrive at a new location, you will not look around and see nails sticking out of the wall.  Chances are good someone else boxed up their memories and left you a clean canvas.  You know what to do.