u/THEBIGHUNGERDC

Summer 1975. Every year we would go to Cape Cod for two weeks, but this year my mom started a job so we could only take a long weekend. We went to this motel by the beach for the first time. It was utterly short but the owners, a large rambunctious clan from Boston (Quincy I think) we utterly nice. They were hard working, sun baked and delightfully Irish.

When my dad died in November (massive heart attack while bowling - the way he would have wanted it) my mom mourned the fact that we didn't have a nice long vacation that summer. Our family would go back to the Cutty Sark year after year and Veronica, the owner, would become a lifelong friend of my mom. I would be left to pine after one of the daughters, to no avail.

All the things that would change after this picture. I know....life, but damn, what a change. I still have that hat my dad is wearing.