Decades ago, my parents realized how much they enjoyed tennis - playing, and spectating. One day my mother started poking around the pro circuit schedules, and found a pro tennis tournament at Hilton Head. Oklahomans who had never been to South Carolina, they made travel arrangements and headed east. (Does this in ANY WAY explain my wanderlust?)
They loved it. And my mother (no doubt Dad was in on this) happened onto some art galleries out there. One in particular struck their fancy, and vice-versa, and my Dad's sculptures were exhibited at this gallery for years (decades?) until the gallery closed. But another gallery immediately took Dad's pieces, and so the sculpture biz continues on, at Hilton Head Island, South Carolina.
For years and years, my parents have spent weeks of their springtimes out of Oklahoma and onto Hilton Head Island. Terrific parents that they are, they invited all of us kids, plus the grands, to join them, whenever we could each spring, for however long we could. And this tradition has been going on and on: strollers, swimsuits, bikes, tennis rackets, kites, running shoes, cameras, Easter weekends, a big sailboat, and more, throughout the years. What a tradition, let me tell you. The memories!
This spring was no different. The newlyweds and I headed south from Richmond in the wee pre-dawn hours, and were walking along low tide by late afternoon. I had decreed a seafood-only diet for the 4-day weekend, and let me tell you, it was a glorious weekend!
A few photos, and more to come:
Mom & Dad:
(newlyweds, 63 years ago)