Celebrating What is Good and True

This year, the United States marks its 250th anniversary.

A little more than a century ago, my grandfather, William, left Northern Ireland and arrived in America through Ellis Island. Like millions before and after him, he came seeking something difficult to name but easy to recognize: hope. The possibility of building a life that was larger than the one he was leaving behind.

He eventually found work in Hollywood as an agent representing singers and entertainers. Through what I can only describe as one of life's beautiful coincidences, he met a young journalist in Los Angeles named Helen, who would later become my grandmother.

Had he not found the courage to leave everything familiar behind, I would not be here.

His journey instilled in me a deep love for this country—not because America has ever been perfect, but because it has long held itself out as a place where new beginnings are possible.

As a young woman, I chose a life of service to my country. Twenty years in federal service, preceded by a decade in the United States Coast Guard, became my way of expressing gratitude for the opportunities my grandfather found here.

I often think of the words inscribed upon the Statue of Liberty:

"Give me your tired, your poor,
Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,
The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.
Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me,
I lift my lamp beside the golden door."

My maternal grandfather, William Graham.

Those words have always felt less like poetry and more like a promise.

I think about my grandfather often and wonder what it must have taken to board that ship. What hardships compelled him to leave everything he knew behind. How frightening it must have been to arrive in a country where nearly everything was unfamiliar. And yet, somehow, he trusted that hope would be stronger than fear.

That faith changed the course of our family's history.

This Independence Day, however, stirs more complicated emotions for me than it once did.

As I watch our country wrestle with deep divisions and unsettling challenges, I also find myself awaiting word from the government of Ireland regarding my own application for citizenship. In many ways, life has come full circle. My grandfather left Northern Ireland searching for opportunity. I now find myself considering whether another path might eventually call me home.

In the meantime, I continue to participate in the ways I know matter. I vote at the ballot box. I vote with my dollars. I boycott what falls outside my values. (My own mom is boycotting the 4th in honor of my grandfather who almost certainly is turning over in his grave now that Voldemort is running the country). And perhaps someday, I may vote with my feet.

Still, I remain hopeful.

History reminds us that societies grow by confronting the truths they would rather ignore. Sometimes the fractures that appear are painful precisely because they reveal what has long been hidden beneath the surface. Bringing those realities into the light gives us an opportunity to learn, to repair, and to build stronger foundations for those who follow. My hope is that future generations of principled leaders will continue the long work of strengthening our democracy, preserving our freedoms, and ensuring that the values we cherish are protected not simply by tradition, but by enduring institutions.

So while this Fourth of July may not inspire in me the same feelings of patriotic celebration it once did, it does inspire something perhaps even more important.

Gratitude.

Gratitude for the people I love.
Gratitude for meaningful work.
Gratitude for community.
Gratitude for the beauty that still surrounds us every day.

Those things remain wonderfully, reassuringly true.

Celebrating What Is Good and True

The headlines often ask us to pay attention to what is broken.

Nature quietly reminds us to notice what is growing.

This is, after all, the season of abundance.

Garden beds overflow with tomatoes and herbs. Farmers markets burst with baskets of sweet berries, peaches, watermelon, fresh corn, and flowers gathered only hours before. Neighbors linger on front porches long after dinner. Children chase fireflies. Friends gather around picnic tables and backyard grills. Dogs nap in the shade while conversations stretch into warm summer evenings.

None of these moments erase life's difficulties.

But they do remind us why those difficulties are worth facing.

Freedom isn't found only in constitutions or courtrooms. It also lives in ordinary moments: sharing a meal with people we love, tending a garden, walking familiar neighborhood streets, supporting local farmers, laughing around a campfire, or simply sitting quietly beneath a canopy of stars.

Perhaps that is where gratitude begins—not by pretending everything is perfect, but by recognizing that beauty continues to exist alongside uncertainty.

This weekend, celebrate the goodness that already surrounds you.

Buy fresh peaches from the roadside stand.

Slice a perfectly ripe tomato onto warm bread.

Pick herbs from the garden.

Share watermelon with children.

Visit your local farmers market.

Sit outside just a little longer than usual.

These simple rituals become quiet acts of appreciation for the places we call home and the communities that sustain us.

Practice: Invite Friends to a Summer Table

This weekend, invite a few people you care about to share a meal.

It doesn't need to be elaborate.

A loaf of fresh bread.
A salad made from garden vegetables.
Sweet summer fruit.
Cold lemonade or iced tea.

Eat outside if you can.

Leave the phones inside.

Notice the breeze. The birdsong. The laughter. The slowing down that naturally happens when no one is in a hurry.

Before everyone leaves, take a quiet moment to offer gratitude—for the food, for the friendship, and for the privilege of gathering together.

Sometimes the simplest tables hold the richest conversations.

Carrying the Light Forward

As we move into this Independence Day weekend, may we remember that love of country and hope for its future can exist together.

May we continue to care for our communities with kindness, participate with integrity, and never lose sight of the values that call us toward our better selves.

The future is not written by history alone. It is written every day through ordinary acts of courage, generosity, compassion, and connection.

May your holiday be filled with good food, meaningful conversation, and the quiet joy of celebrating everything that is still good and true.

Happy Independence Day.