“Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things that you didn’t do than by the ones you did do.”

~Mark Twain

“Life moves pretty fast. If you don’t stop and look around once in a while, you could miss it.”

~Ferris Bueller

I’ve been called “controlling” when it comes to my kids. I got this from my dad, God love him.

It’s not really a “controlling” attribute, but one more of love and protection.

I’m a mother. That’s my job. To keep everyone safe.

I always believed that staying on the “less risky” side of life would do this. Contrary to my belief, it was my child who received stitches after shopping of all activities, while my friend’s kids were climbing trees, riding bikes without helmets and running with sharp sticks- all with nary a scratch.

Don’t get me wrong, my kids had fun. I would just analyze every situation beforehand, to weigh out the possible risks verses the benefits.

 

I guess you could say it was a parade that beckoned me out of my safe haven.

 

The summer of 2010 marked two years since I had lost my mom. With my dad recently falling ill earlier that spring, I had my hands full juggling doctor appointments, trying to run his business and attempting to keep things “normal” for my children. Both of them were on their way to different summer camps, giving them a break from the hustle and bustle at home. My daughter was headed off to cheer camp. She had been a competitive dancer for years leaving little time for school activities and with her senior year approaching, she had decided to join her high school’s cheer-leading squad. During camp, she was one of a select group of girls chosen to be named an “All American Cheerleader.”

While this was certainly a prized accomplishment that week at camp, the excitement soon fizzled out when she returned home. My dad had taken a turn for the worst and ended up passing away in early August.

A month later, I received a call from one of the other “cheer moms” asking if my daughter was going to participate in the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade.

Evidently that was the ultimate trophy of the title.

I had no clue. I had been so preoccupied with losing my dad that I hadn’t even researched any of the “perks” nor did my daughter.

The Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade?!

It had always been on my bucket list!

I would warn my parents that “next year would be the year” and not to be upset when we weren’t there for the annual feast. My mom would just laugh as she would hear this speech annually. Having done the city before, I personally think my husband and son had no interest in ever going back, much less in a crowd of parade proportions. I’m glad I never pushed the issue. I wouldn’t have traded any one of those turkey dinners with my parents.

 

I called the “All American” hotline for details…

“Is your daughter a dancer or a cheerleader?”

“Well, both I guess…” I clarified she received the “title” as a cheerleader.

The coordinator asked about her dance experience.

“Do you think she would rather dance?”

The coordinator explained that this year the dancers were to perform the opening number on live television to kick off the parade.

Well, that was a no-brainer! My daughter’s greatest love was dance!

I would talk to my husband and daughter and call her back the next day, which was ironically the deadline.

Not a lot of time to contemplate.

Unbelievable! We would not only get to see the Macy’s Parade, we would get to watch our daughter perform in it?! This couldn’t be happening?!

With one exception (needle scratches across record): the coordinator explained only ONE parent could accompany the performer.

Oh my gosh… We (as in her and I) would have to travel to NYC by ourselves?!!!

Driving was out of the question (we stupidly did that the first time we went) and fly?! Oh my gosh, I had not flown since I was a child! My daughter had NEVER flown!

 

My brain was in full stereo…

In one speaker, I could hear my father bellowing, “NYC of all places?! Do you not realize that your mother and I are NO LONGER AROUND to help raise your son should ALL the ENDLESS and UNFORTUNATE possibilities happen while you are transporting your daughter to the busiest of cities?! To DANCE, no less??!”

In the other speaker was my mother who was often the voice of reason, “Don’t listen to your father! God’s gonna take you when He’s ready, not a minute too early, or a second too late. Life’s short! Do it!”

I talked to my husband who encouraged me all the way.

She would be leaving for college soon, this could be “our last hurrah” together. When would she, when would we, ever have a chance like this?

And if the plane went down in flames…. well…

I prayed a lot and slept on it.

 

The next morning, I told my daughter. She was ecstatic to say the least! There was no backing out now…

NYC Bound….

The plane didn’t crash, get hijacked or combust in midair. We arrived in one piece. So far, so good!

 

The week flew by and was filled with intense dance practices intermingling with lots of sightseeing.

November 25, 2010 finally came…

arriving early in our hotel room with an alarm sounding promptly at 3:30 am.

The routine of showers, hair, and make up began and pretty soon she was ready to head to the lobby to meet the other dancers.

We listened as the chorographers announced details of their morning schedule.

There was a slight change.

Instead of being released after the opening number was performed, they would board the subway and assemble again near Central Park to escort, none other than, the most prominent individual in the parade- the one and only Macy’s Santa Claus!

My daughter turned to me with a gleam in her eye that I hadn’t seen with the mention of that name since she was five!

As the girls quickly corralled in their groups, I managed to give her a quick kiss goodbye as they left to board the subway that would take them into Herald Square.

Despite the brisk morning temperatures in the low twenties, I opted out of the other mom’s invites to stay inside the lobby and watch the footage on TV. Instead, I took the early morning subway, found my way down 7^th Avenue, stopped for a hot chocolate and scoped out a spot in front of a bank where I sat for hours waiting to see the most famous parade in the world.

It was spectacular! Definitely “bucket list worthy!”

As the dancers led the infamous sleigh into my view, a light and steady snowfall began to dust the streets of New York City.

How was I worthy of such a beautiful moment such as this?

My first Thanksgiving without my mom or dad ended up being one of the most blessed moments I have ever experienced.

I have no doubt that somewhere far above the streets of New York, hidden deep in those white snow clouds, God placed two front row seats that day.

So yes, it was a parade where I learned that life was about living, and more often than not, the risks are definitely worth taking in the end!