Growing up in New York City, my favorite memory of Thanksgiving is when I went to see the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day parade as a 5 or 6 year old with both of my parents. It was probably only a year or two before they split, and this is my only memory of Thanksgiving with all three of us together.
It was a cold, windy day, with the clouds spitting out raindrops, though it never fully rained. I tried standing on the base of a streetlight, but that didn’t get me high enough to see over the woman in front. I ended up kneeling on top of a mailbox, with my dad supporting me from behind. I remember my mom exclaiming and then laughing as her fur hat kept trying to fly off. The only inflatable I specifically remember seeing is Goofy, which is funny, since I never particularly liked him. I can remember him coming down 5th Avenue after clearing the turn from the West Side. Later we took the subway to my grandmother’s house in Queens to eat our traditional turkey there for Thanksgiving. I don’t remember that much about the dinner – typical kid – it was all about the parade!
Since then, I’ve lived my adult life in Ohio and one of my big regrets is not taking my son to see the Macy’s parade in New York City while he was young enough to appreciate it.
