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and to the republic for which it stands
Aug. 9th, 2005 10:04 pmMy husband asked me to marry him for the first time on ICQ. Or, to be more specific, we decided that we should get married during an ICQ chat--there really was no asking involved on either side at this point. When we tell this story now, it sounds as if the time we spent apart was but a twinkling, but I can assure you that it was the longest year and a half of our lives. We agreed to pretend as if we were not engaged, putting off a formal engagement until after we had already submitted the paperwork of an engaged couple.. both of us wanting the chance for a real proposal. But that ICQ chat, in the early months of 2000, was the beginning.
The decision made, I sent away immediately for the required packet of forms from the INS. Through the next five and a half years, we painstakingly filled out forms in triplicate, submitted the same documentation six different times (why would my birth certificate change?) and sent it to the wrong office at least once. We produced a plethora of good, bad and strange passport-style photos, we attended interviews at the drop of a hat, we scheduled chest x-rays and physicals, we verified that we are of good moral character, we watched the evolution of the immigrations office in the office in Louisville from a damp, dingy room to a rather nice waiting area. In short, we have jumped through countless hoops, filled out masses of paperwork and spent a billion dollars in fees.
On September 9, that will be a phase of our lives that we will no longer need to concern ourselves with, for I will officially be married to a citizen of the United States.
Congratulations, baby.
The decision made, I sent away immediately for the required packet of forms from the INS. Through the next five and a half years, we painstakingly filled out forms in triplicate, submitted the same documentation six different times (why would my birth certificate change?) and sent it to the wrong office at least once. We produced a plethora of good, bad and strange passport-style photos, we attended interviews at the drop of a hat, we scheduled chest x-rays and physicals, we verified that we are of good moral character, we watched the evolution of the immigrations office in the office in Louisville from a damp, dingy room to a rather nice waiting area. In short, we have jumped through countless hoops, filled out masses of paperwork and spent a billion dollars in fees.
On September 9, that will be a phase of our lives that we will no longer need to concern ourselves with, for I will officially be married to a citizen of the United States.
Congratulations, baby.
