Someone would come in and wake each of the kids between 4 and 5 in the morning. We'd all get ready to go...some years it was all of us, some years, just my brother and I.... Then we would pile into one or two cars, arguing over who sits where....and drive to Brooklyn, New York.....most of us would fall asleep on the two hour trip.....hunt for parking once we got to Brooklyn and walk to Aunt Kathy's house on Wogan Terrace in Bay Ridge....
Knock on the door, ring the bell and wake everyone in the house up....Aunt Kathy would make a HUGE breakfast for us, as we sat around the dining room and living room catching up....They had a small kitchen in the townhouse, so it was hard for more than one or two people to be in it....
After breakfast, we'd walk up the block and catch the train "into the city" (Manhatten)....we'd find a spot to watch the parade....and freeze while we waited...and hoped not to have to go to the bathroom, because they were hard to find!!
Aunt Kathy had stayed behind, sometimes others would too....Tracy and Debby didn't always go to the parade with us....and I don't remember if Billy did.....
When the parade was over, we'd head back to the train with the masses of people.....and take the R train back to Brooklyn....last stop.....
We'd sit around, watch the games (not me, I usually had a book) or play with Debby and Tracy....
Then we'd eat, sit around some more, eat some more....and eventually we'd have to leave.....and we'd pile back in our car(s) and head back to Connecticut....
We did this almost every year until about 1985, then my brother and I were in high school and we wanted to watch the Turkey Day game against the rival school.....and dad wasn't always around at this point....
we went a couple of more times before they sold the townhouse and moved to Florida....
but Thanksgiving will always mean Aunt Kathy's house....
1 comment:
To me Christmas will forever be waking up before it is light to open presents with my brothers and eating Christmas dinner with my family - it is weird how certain memories just endure as the mark of how things should be.
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