Across the Ocean on the 🇺🇸 Fourth of July 🇺🇸
This is the first Fourth of July I’ve spent outside of the United States.
Our little family has a longstanding tradition of attending fireworks shows and having barbecues. I can only remember one other year we weren’t “home”—a quick trip to Orange Beach, Alabama, when the kids were tiny. One had just mastered potty training.
Living abroad means not celebrating in the ways that you used to. It means missing out on longstanding traditions that you’ve established with friends and family. It often means experiencing a normal day while everyone else in your orbit is enjoying a national holiday.
There’s a certain loneliness that comes with living across an ocean. You sometimes feel left out. It’s okay to name what you’re missing. And it’s also okay to recognize what you get to do — things others back home may never experience. After all, this lifestyle is most often a choice.
Truthfully, Thanksgiving and Christmas are a bit harder for me to miss than the Fourth of July. The Fourth of July doesn’t hold the same sacredness as Thanksgiving or Christmas. If a storm blows in and fireworks are cancelled, I’m not heartbroken. The show will go on another day. But if that Thanksgiving meal is cancelled? Some people flew in just to eat that special meal with family. Missing it often means missing those people for another year.
Tonight, we’ll celebrate Iris’s birthday (it was earlier this week) with a nice dinner out. If we’re lucky, we might catch some fireworks from our balcony — because, Valencia. I’ll wish friends and family a happy Fourth, and tomorrow, life goes on.
Happy 🇺🇸 Fourth of July 🇺🇸, wherever you’re celebrating today!