What It’s Really Like to Pack Someone’s Entire Life

Homes are more than just walls and furniture – they’re layers of life, memories, and all the little things that make us who we are. Packing it all up is a privilege I don’t take lightly.

It starts with a call – someone with a big move ahead and not nearly enough time to pull it off. Then you walk into their home, and it’s not the carefully staged, picture-perfect version you might see at their dinner parties. It’s the real deal – lived-in, full of personality, and wonderfully human. You’re petting their dogs, chatting up their cats and toddlers, and getting a front-row seat to the beautiful chaos of family life.

Then comes the fun part. You pack up every single item they own. It’s a bit like being an archaeologist – you uncover the layers of a family’s life, from the everyday basics to the oddball treasures. You get to know a house in a way even the owners might not – the forgotten corners, the junk drawers, the spare rooms full of 'someday' projects.

And then there’s the physical part – the deep muscle memory that makes packing feel as natural as breathing. It’s satisfying, like a 7-hour puzzle that leaves you tired, a little sore, but somehow energized. The toughest items become challenges, little victories that make you smile when you finally fit that awkward lamp or bizarrely shaped piece of art just right.

At the end of the day, the customer is relieved, the house is ready to move, and I’m left with that good kind of tired – like I really accomplished something.

So, if you ever hear me say, “I love packing,” just know—it’s not about the boxes. It’s about the people, the stories, and the quiet honor of helping someone turn the page. And honestly, I wouldn’t trade it for anything.