The main street of Glen Head is packed for the parade and the enthusiastic crowd claps as veteran soldiers, girl scouts, school bands and firefighters pass by. Then everyone falls respectfully silent as a lone trumpet plays the national anthem.
It's a real neighbourhood gathering. My cousin VIcky (above) walks over from her apartment down the road (she's already watched one parade today) and Mary's daughter Michaela, husband John, and children Ronan and Aubrey join us, though John looks more like he's on security duty for the FBI. Nice and relaxed with family all around, Mary and John make a big fuss of their youngest grandchild Aubrey – who admittedly looks adorable in her alternative Stars & Stripes. We go back to the house for a BBQ of Nathan's hot dogs and a last chinwag in the sunshine with cousins Vicky and Mary.
Later on Mary drives me to JFK. The four-month-and-one-week odyssey is over. I'm flying home. Mary gives me an old hand-wrought pewter plaque of the nativity, given to her many years ago by my mother Maureen, her godmother, together with a raw amethyst my father Eric had given her when she visited us in Scotland in her twenties. And it is somehow fitting. Adventures apart, much of my journey around the globe has been about cementing old friendships and affirming family ties. Oh, and learning an important lesson: if you can't find a good enough reason not to do something, just do it.
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