I believe my Canadian immigration status is progressing as fast as it can. We still haven’t mailed in our applications that have been worked on for over a month. I have jumped through every hoop: been fingerprinted by the local sheriff, OK’ed by the FBI and Texas Dept of Safety, bought almost $100 in passport photos, paid $250 to a doctor in Dallas to tell Canada that I’m medically OK, and hunted down a real copy of my birth certificate.
But now the real gymnastics: trying to pay for the application fees. It’s not that we don’t have the damn near $1000 for the application fees (that’s a turnip that might have enough blood in it), but every immigration website runs us around in circles as to WHAT to pay and WHERE to pay it.
So, we are praying that a phone call to a Canadian embassy next week will solve this.
Meanwhile, of the handful of people we have shared this news with, it’s not surprising that the smattering of people that make up my family are not excited about our move.
I don’t know why. I guess it makes sense being that I’m the only child my parents have. But I don’t have hoards of aunts, uncles, or cousins that will miss me. So why stick around anyway I figure. I’m not that close to the people I’m blood related to.
My mother refuses to acknowledge the subject of our move. She goes silent when it’s mentioned. Not surprising I guess. Silent treatment or subject changing is how she’s responded with everything I’ve wanted to do that was outside her suburban work-a-holic judgmental church-going universe. Which is about 99% of the actions in my entire life.
I’ve always wondered if there was any preacher out there who gave a sermon on the fine line between ”honor thy father and thy mother” and Jesus’ words of ”hate your own parents to follow me”.
Jesus was being a tad metaphorical with that “hate” part, or so I assume. But honoring and hating are about as polar opposites as you can get.
I wouldn’t say I hate my own parents. But maybe not giving a shit about their desires for my life is a version of hating them.
*photo by Alexander Dudley - 2004
4 comments:
When our plans fell through in our move to the UK, my sister told me that my dad prayed every night that it wouldn't work out and that we would "get" to come home.
If we ever are able to move back there, I don't know that I'll even tell him.
Who are these parents that think that because they've never had or fulfilled dreams they can belittle ours? It seems so backwards.
I hope that your fees and paperwork goes through quickly and you're on your way before you know it!
Deana - long time.
Thanks for the well wishes!
It took my folks a long time to adjust to my move to Boston as well. I'm not sure if you were able to prepare them for the move, I know I didn't do a good job preparing my folks. While they knew I was dating someone from the Northeast it was a whole other monster when I announce the move to them. It will take more time and adjustment. Just remember they haven't been chewing on the idea as long as you have. If they are upset it's because they love and will miss you. They have a right to be disappointed and sad about the move, just as you have a right to be excited about it.
Thanks for the perspective Bek.
Giving my parents a year advance notice is as much preparation as anyone needs I think. Plus, for the 10 years I've been married to a Canadian, they've always known this move was a possibility.
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