There is something unique about celebrating July Fourth outside of the U.S. For me, it felt more patriotic, more unifying, more “We the People” than I’ve felt in many many years.

Our family recently moved to Norway and are living in my husband’s childhood home just outside of Oslo. So far it’s going well, the learning curve of the language and culture is quite steep, but we’re taking it one step at a time.

When we were figuring out the date that we’d leave Portland, Oregon for Oslo, I was hoping to leave after the Fourth, because as I’ve said before, it’s one of my favorite holidays. Tasty grilled food, drinking outside under the warm sun, lighting firecrackers and running away, the smell of those charcoal snakes as they blacken the ground, and the big fireworks that make you ooo and ahh as you’re outstretched on a blanket looking up at the darkened sky.

OK, that was a bit flowery, sorry, but I really do love the holiday. Anyway, I was bummed when I found out I wasn’t going to have a last July Fourth in America, but also excited to see how the Norwegians do it.

After our jetlag wore off, I did a little digging and found the American Coordinating Council of Norway, which hosts what it calls the biggest gathering of Americans outside of the U.S. Fairly lofty claims, yes, but I wanted to check it out.   I asked Farmor if they’d have fireworks. She kindly smiled and said no, it was too light outside. Derp! I knew that, each evening around 11 p.m. I marvel at how light it is outside, it looks more like dusk than night. What a silly question.

That Saturday we headed to Vigelandsparken, my favorite park in the city. As soon as we got out of the car, I heard English with American accents all around. You see, normally, outside of my home I’m surrounded by the Norwegian language, which I’m trying to learn. Not understanding the world around you can be somewhat isolating, which is why I found comfort in hearing strangers speak my “mother tongue.”

Out of the blue, this woman from Northern California struck up a conversation with us, it turns out her parents were Danish and she was in love with my boys’ hair. It started to feel like one of those big family reunions where you don’t always remember many of the people there, but you talk to them as if you’ve known them forever.

I saw a man wearing an Illini T-Shirt and then a Michigan State alumn, followed by Boston Red Sox, Chicago Cubs, and New York Yankees. I’m not a fan of what I call billboard T-shirts, but this was one of the few times I wished I was wearing a shirt that showed either Chicago, Mizzou or Kansas (the state NOT the school.)

Soon, young men from the U.S. Marine Corp posted the colors and an older man sang the American National Anthem. It was beautiful, and stirring. I don’t usually get emotional at hearing our national anthem, but when I heard the man next to me sniffling and saw him wiping away tears, I did feel the slightest little lump in my throat.

Overall it was a great day, I met some new folks, had delicious barbecue and basked in the warm sun with my fellow Americans.

Sweet Land of Liberty, I hope you too enjoyed your day.