It had taken us years to turn our cabin from somebody else`s abandoned vacation home into a place that we could consider our own. Every wall, every floor, every window sealing had something of us in it. Usually caulk, sure, but also time, and sweat, and tears. We had learned how to be adults in that cabin. We`d learned how to take care of ourselves, and figured out how to take care of each other. Years. And yet it only took a few minutes for the cabin to dwindle and disappear in our rearview mirror, becoming part of the past, and not necessarily part of the future.