Traveling With My Dad Taught Me About Legacy & The Gift Of Time

Sometimes people underestimate the beauty of traveling with a parent — I know I did, until recently. My family has always traveled, but this trip to Hilton Head was different. It was one-on-one. It was extremely special, just my dad and me, taking in all of the sights, learning every piece of history we could gather, and fully absorbing the culture. What surprised me most, though, was how much the experience nurtured not just our bond, but my own emotional wellness. It felt like a heartbeat that steadied my spirit. Maybe it was the ancestors talking to me?

Honestly, being in the throes of the day-to-day can have you spiraling to the point you lose control of your well-being. Stress becomes the norm and you’re constantly on a rollercoaster just trying to grasp for air — drowning in the highs, lows, and ups and downs that come with the territory of adulting. But traveling has a way of pulling you out of the grind of everyday life and giving your mind the space to breathe. Maybe that is why so many of us run to book that next flight before we've even landed from our last excursion?

I never wanted to rely on a temporary escape as a band-aid over the anxiousness, emotional trials, and worry that I'll always have something to do, whether it's work, personal, social, or showing up for others, while still trying to keep my head above water and fully show up for my own damn self. I know it probably sounds like a "woe is me" scenario, but trust me, it’s more common than not — especially among Black women who process and internalize stressors much differently than their counterparts. Surprisingly, during this trip, I was fully present and slowing down felt like finally permitting myself to breathe.

To know my dad is to know he's a complete history buff, with a spirit that's always pushing for entrepreneurship and rooting for everybody Black. As a 70-something-year-old Black man born in Alabama, his views on entrepreneurship, economic development, and the importance of preserving history and culture have always been front and center.

So imagine us walking the grounds of Mitchelville Freedom Park, which is considered the first self-governed town of formerly enslaved Africans — and then sitting down with Bridgette Frazier, the powerhouse behind Ma Daisy's Porch, a brand-new restaurant honoring her grandmother's legacy. Months later, those moments are still with me because not only did it make my father proud, but they also reminded me that the time we share and the history we honor live on in our stories, in the food we eat, the communities we build and it's up to us to preserve it all.

A way to preserve it is by taking the time to travel with your parents. We all know the days are long but the years are short. Ironically, multigenerational travel is on the rise. So, sure, I could’ve brought a friend on the trip, but traveling with my dad — even though we’re generations apart — gave me a chance to see Hilton Head through his lens as well as my own. It was not only eye-opening, but also a reminder of how history lives on when we carry it forward together — that legacy is something we live, share and pass on together.

Truthfully, nowhere is that more evident than in the Gullah Geechee culture that is still thriving on Hilton Head and throughout the Lowcountry since the mid 18th century. From the language dialect to various art forms, the Gullah Geechee story is one of survival, creativity, and community, a commonality found in our bloodline. It's in our DNA.

Rituals such as basket weaving are still present on the island, a West African tradition that families carried from their homelands. For those who may not be totally familiar, the Gullah are Black Americans of the South Carolina and Georgia Lowcountry known for preserving and maintaining a distinct sense of identity through language, food, spirituality, and artistic styles, more than any other Black community in the United States. Talk about resilience, tenacity, and perseverance at its finest.

By the end of the trip I realized that Hilton Head was more than just a typical vacay. It was a chance for me to slow down, breathe, and see the world through my father's eyes. It was also a gentle reminder that our stories, rituals, and culture are not just history — they’re living legacies. Traveling with him taught me that sometimes wellness isn’t found in superficiality, a spa or a retreat, but in a shared moment across generations.

Walking those grounds, tasting those meals, and witnessing the survival of Gullah culture reminded me that history is alive — in us, through us, and all around us. Maybe that’s why the trip felt like a missing heartbeat added to my daily rhythm that I didn’t know I needed? Or maybe it was the ancestors whispering: slow down, look closer and carry this forward.

Traveling with aging parents isn’t always easy — schedules, energy levels, even interests don’t always align. However, one lesson I learned is that as adults, when we travel with our parents, it strengthens our bond, and I can wholeheartedly say I felt this truth in real time. The laughter, the quiet conversations and even the way we both paused to take in the same sight from two different generational lenses.

Hilton Head reminded me that legacy isn’t distant. It’s here, now, in every step we take and in every piece of air you and I are beyond blessed to breathe. So when I went back home, I was grateful, not just for the experience, but for the memories and the shared moments. Most importantly, I carried home with me the ability to hold space not just for myself, but for my father, for those who came before us, and for everyone still to come. More than anything, this trip reminded me of the gift of time. In the words of acclaimed author Alice Walker, "Time moves slowly, but passes quickly."