This month my parents sold the family cabin — and with that, we said goodbye to a place filled with decades of memories. We were lucky to go down one last time to help pack it up, but also to soak in all the lasts.
This wasn’t just any cabin — it was built by my grandparents the year I was a senior in high school. It was my grandpa’s baby, and it truly felt like a piece of him. We spent countless weekends there building fires and roasting s’mores, sitting on that old wooden bench (the one that always threatened splinters), laying in the back of Grandpa’s truck watching for shooting stars, and shooting BB guns at old tin cans in the yard. Inside, the soundtrack was old school vinyls especially Queen — the unofficial anthem of the cabin — with old Disney VHS tapes of childhood favorites playing in the background.
We’d play darts, I would read books out on the porch, paint rocks (my grandma was such an artist — her creativity was amazing), and stay up late playing Scattergories. Starvation Reservoir was just outside of town, and we loved spending hot summer days in the water. Duchesne was the sweetest little country town, famous in our family for its small-town rodeo. Movie nights at the old drive-in just a town away. And of course, the Rhino — everyone’s favorite. The boys could ride it for hours on end.
After my grandparents passed, I was so grateful my parents kept the cabin in the family. It meant more time to make memories in that beautiful place with the most stunning sunsets.
It’s hard to see it go. So many memories packed into those walls.
Thanks for everything, cabin.
