As someone who loves to travel to unique sites or vacation to remote locations, owning two cozy cabins in the middle of the Smoky Mountains is a blessing. One is a small, A-frame build and the other is a slightly larger cabin that sits on stilts about twenty feet off the ground. With an abundance of family history and joyful memories, these cabins have been in the family for generations and will continue to be passed down for even more. I remember meeting my step-mom’s grandparents for the first time inside that cabin and we would play “Spoons” for hours and hours on end. I remember we would struggle to turn on the old TV and the DVD Player and make it work after 30 minutes of trying. I remember waking up one morning to come downstairs and see bear prints on the wet grass. I remember the chicken, the goats, the bugs, the way the fan made a weird noise at night, and the way the old beds creaked. All of these memories are small details that I haven’t forgotten about, and likely never will.  Two years ago, my baby sister was born and my step-mom’s grandfather died shortly after, putting the memories to a halt.  We haven’t been to the cabins since, even when we’ve tried. Her grandmother is too old to travel now so my parents will soon be responsible for the maintenance of the cabins. One day they will eventually be turned over to me, and knowing this I look forward to being able to make more memories with my own family in the future. 

– TG

Relationship:  Child of im/migrant Child of im/migrant