Hilton Head Island

I left Tampa in my brand-new “Gator Blue” Honda Civic EX on May 12th, 2014.

Spent that night at the spectacular Omni beachfront hotel on Hilton Head for a ridiculously low rate thanks to Priceline.com.

Before I had left, I’d made a reservation off-island in Bluffton, SC at a Holiday Inn Express. Everything decent on the island was upwards of $300 a night. While heading up I-95, I got an email from Priceline offering a night at the Omni for $100. Far less than the going rates. Even less than Holiday Inn Express.

Good omen? Great app!

If you’re familiar with Hilton Head, the Omni is perched on the beach in Palmetto Dunes, which happens to be the same “plantation” where my folks lived for nearly 20 years after my dad retired. So, one of my first missions after checking in was to drive past their old house which I probably hadn’t seen since 1999. Looked the same. Made me miss the great times we all had there.

It was early evening and had been a long drive, but I still took a chance at 1.) finding the cemetery in Sea Pines and 2.) finding their graves. One was easier than the other, but I eventually found their place under a few old live oaks dripping with Spanish moss. As I had come to expect from life in South Carolina’s Lowcountry, it was warm and humid, even though the sun had began its disappearing act on the horizon. The cicadas were raising a racket in the trees. I reached into my pocket and retrieved the small medicine bottle I had filled with Pat’s ashes. I gently sprinkled the greyish granules on both graves.

They were all such great friends in life. My parents adored Pat. Pat adored my parents.

I can’t begin to describe the profoundness of that moment, standing alone in that cemetery.

The three most important people in my life. Gone. But now, together in death.

I sobbed. Hard and loud.

Got in my car. Drove to Reilley’s Pub, just off Sea Pines Circle. Ordered a pint of Harp and the prime rib special. I always loved Reilley’s. We ate there with my parents almost every time we drove up for a visit.

For Pat and I, it was our go-to place whenever we needed a break from visiting my parents. Or when we felt they needed a break from us.

As my prime rib dinner arrived, I remembered sitting there at the bar watching the NFC Championship in January 2000 while my mother was dying of cancer. My brothers, along with a woman from hospice, kept up the vigil at the house.

Buccaneers versus Rams. I’d already been notified by the Bucs that, as a season ticket holder, I’d have the opportunity to buy tickets for the Super Bowl in Atlanta if they won. A potential moral conflict, especially if her funeral was during Super Bowl weekend.

Back at the house, Dad was chain-smoking in the den. He’d already said goodbye to his wife of 58 years. Pat and Alex were still in Tampa. She had work. He had school. They’d come up in a few days. Or sooner, if need be. There was no need for them to endure something like this.

I always felt a little guilty about cutting out to watch the game. But I felt confident she’d rather have me cheering on my team than pacing in the living room. Waiting.

As it turned out, the Rams won, 11 – 6. Mom hung in there for another four heart-breaking days. Her funeral was on Super Bowl Sunday.

I finished my beef and my Harp. And headed back to the Omni.

The next morning, I awoke early and took a walk on that glorious Hilton Head beach. My bag was already in the car. Convinced I’d done what I’d set out to do there, I left.

Charlotte

My parent’s house in Palmetto Dunes

My folks. Pat’s ashes

The Harp

The pool at The Omni Resort Hotel

Footprints

Morning on the beach