They're tearing down my dead sister's cabin – going to go see it today for the last time

I don't think there's anything privileged at all here. It sounds like a very reasonable thing to mourn, for a lot of reasons. Not just your sister but a whole host of memories from a time before things are now. I definitely understand how that feels. As I get older more of those people places and things that were an important part of some past version of who I am now are disappearing. I'm not even a very sentimental person and it still hurts me when I think about how places like my grandpa's basement (which was an amazing place to young me for a lot of reasons) doesn't exist anymore. So yeah I don't think it's privileged at all to mourn the loss of the cabin. It sounds like it was a special place to you.

I'm open to hearing the text behind the * if you think sharing will help you feel a little better.

it's hard to see places once regarded as everlasting, fall away and vanish.

I moved a lot as a kid, but one of those homes I lived in from like 5-13 was bulldozed along with a dozen others to make an on-ramp. the other places we lived and generally unfamiliar due to development.

when I was old enough to drive, I went to those old places exploring and what had once seemed eternal and palatial was now small or gone forever, unrecognizably reconfigured.

it's weird, because never having had a place (my parents moved again after I left home) that I could return to, I've always wanted to create one for those that come later. some place I could invest myself in, that would be around long after I've gone for others to call home. but I seem to be the odd one in the family, who are all always eager to "trade up" and see everything as temporary.

the irony being that I have lived far more places across even greater distances now than all of them combined.

I don't know what any of it means, but I see these places with people who have ancestral homes and lands and I can't even imagine how that feels inside, but I wish I could.

I know that when I traveled once to the area of the world where rumor has it my family's great grandwhatevers fled from more than a century ago, i really wanted to move there. the vibes were great, the views romantic, and the communities have a dearth of younger people looking for that quiet life, but the people in charge of who can cross borders permanently have made emigrating a nightmare.

maybe it will all collapse and I can just stuff my life into a shipping container and show up one day. "Hey everybody. I'm back. The settlements were a complete failure."

That is really hard thing to mourn. Have you thought about a ritual or some kind of script to help you find closure while you are there? I found for really intense experiences like the one you are describing going out there that pre-planning some kind of routine helps me to channel my feelings because I get overwhelmed in the moment.

One I do with my students is to walk around the room and say goodbye to the objects and to special memories made in the room. So for example we would say "goodbye chairs" and "goodbye 'when Marisol made up the Oooliebooliebubbachoogie'". That way our last memories of the space are of gratitude and we try to pull the gratitude into our bodies so there isn't a hole left when that space is gone.

Here is another one for crying in a place that my friend gave me:

Sit down somewhere comfortable. Feel the pressure where your body connects to the surfaces that are supporting it (the back of the chair, the floor under your feet). Cup you hands in your lap like you are holding a vessel - a large bowl or an urn, something sacred or something simple.

Feel the place of tears origins, the heart, the belly, the solar plexus, where ever they start for you. Trace the way the move upward, toward the throat and the eyes.

Then take a breath and feel the place where they start again, the heart, the belly, the solar plexus. Trace the path upward, but instead of moving into the throat, look down at your hands. Imagine the tears moving through your shoulders, down the length of your arms, into your hands.

Imagine the bowl you are holding in your hands. Imagine the tears filling up the bowl from the bottom up.

:meow-hug: you aren't being ridiculous, I get very attached to places like that too. I'm sorry. I'm also sorry about your estranged sister, that is really hard. My family has multiple situations like that. I know today's going to be a rough day for you but I'll be thinking about you and wishing you the best :meow-hug:

I completely understand your perspective. You want a physical part of her to persist. In that way it will be like she never really went away.

Whether or not the cabin is gone she will never really go away. Sometimes you or your family thinks about the things she said or did. They know the way she would have responded to a question or situation. Maybe sometimes you pass down a bit of knowledge or a bit of quirkiness that she passed to you, a catchphrase or a quip she was known for. These parts of her aren't just a physical thing, static and lifeless on some property nobody visits anymore. They are living and real. They are part of you and become part of others. In this way, the ripples still move across the surface even though her stone has sunk below the waters of life.

So take some time to remember and pass on a living piece of her to the people you know. And be well, my friend.

Your post reminded me of the song "Old Home Place"

… It's been ten long years since I left my home In the holler where I was born Where the cool fall night makes the wood smoke rise And a fox hunter blows his horn. I fell in love with a girl from the town I thought that she could be true I ran away to Charlottesville And worked in a sawmill too. What have they done to the old home place, Why did they tear it down And why did I leave the plow in the field And look for a job in the town. Well the girl ran off with somebody else The sheriff took all my pay And here I stand where the old home stood Before they took it away. Now the geese fly south and the cold wind moans, I stand alone and hang my head. I've lost my love, I've lost my home And now I wish I was dead. What have they done to the old home place, Why did they tear it down. And why did I leave the plow in the field And look for a job in the town.

Anyway, when I graduated my parents ending up selling moving out of our old house. It just became to expensive to maintain and they wanted to do other things with their lives. The quiet lake which we lived near has gradually been more and more developed to the point of 50% of of the shoreline being someone's yard. You see trees cleared away and the natural dirt banks which cave in as the supporting earth is eroded away replaced with piles of grey rock hauled in from some nearby quarry. Our house, the holder of my cherished memories, became the summer home of some rich pricks from a rich city in the state. No one lives but a few months of the year. The entire stand of young trees that was growing in a place were 20 years prior a mighty oak had fell were flattened because you could see less of the lake. Our simpler wooden dock had been replaced with one much grander and the shoreline, much like all the others, took on that grey rock border.

I feel you in earnest here. It sucks that the passage of time and the warmth of the past is gradually drawn out of much of the world. I hope my somewhat similar experience can being you a little solace.

I feel for you comrade

It's not rediculous or unreasonable at all, like many of the other posters said its dug up old wounds and the loss of a place can be very painful as well. Places like that are homes, and even though they may be objects, homes are part of families in their own way. My heart goes out to you because there is a special place like that in my life too and I would be devestated if it were unexpectedly gone.

Your emotions are not silly, and you are allowed to feel what you're feeling <3

I really deeply appreciate all of your kindness and support.

I'm still in the processing stage where trying to engage with it directly is overwhelming, so I don't have any words yet. I'm sorry to leave you all hanging.