I wrote this a few years back. It still applies. Happy Independence Day, everyone!
The girls are asleep, and the Hound of the Basketballs snores beside me. As I sit on the sofa, I count blessings.
I’m blessed to live in a country where the sons and daughters of firefighters and old-soldiers-turned-cabdrivers could meet, marry, and build lives from an apartment over a drugstore to a home in the burbs. I’m blessed to have been born in a nation where that cabdriver’s son could go from seeking a job on a loading dock to becoming one of the top professionals in a technical field. I’m blessed to live in a nation where I, in turn, was told that my life could be what I would make of it, and in a land of second chances that allowed me to change careers and wind up doing something I love. I’m blessed to live in a country where my wife could rise from Appalachian poverty and…
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