When I was a little girl, my Gram and Grampy always took us to the Christmas Parade. Originally it was called the "Thalhimers Christmas Parade". Thalhimers was a big department store in Richmond. Miller & Rhoades and Thalhimers were Richmond's answer to Macy's and Gimbles. I went into details of Miller & Rhoades' claim to Christmas fame in an earlier post about the real Santa Claus. Thalhimers had the parade market cornered. We would get up early on a Saturday morning, drive down Broad Street, the main drag through Richmond, find a coveted parking spot, and lug the lawn chairs and blankets to the sidewalk to scout for the best seat. It was always cold, so we were bundled up from head-to-toe. My Grampy would unfold the lawn chairs and then Gram would settle in and I would sit on her lap, and we would cover up with a hand crocheted afghan. This served two purposes: 1) It helped us stay warm, and 2) Most importantly for me when I was small, it was easier for me to hide my face against my Gram when the clowns came by. We would sit there and look up the street with anticipation, and ask Grampy every 5 minutes, "Is it coming yet?" and then, finally, we could hear the drums in the distance and the siren from the head police car piercing the air. I would bounce up and down on Gram's lap a she would tap her feet in time to the drums of the bands. She was so cute as she would wave her tiny gloved hand at all the girls on the floats and clap in time to the music as the bands played as they passed. We went year after year after year, and as I became the adult it was my Gram that would ask me with anticipation, "Are we going to the parade?" I was blessed enough to be able to take her to those parades for many years and to watch my own little girl sit on Gram's lap and watch the parade. I hope one day I'll be able to watch the parade with my grandchild, and they will be able to look back and remember just like I am today.
