6 down and 4 to go

Six years ago, ten years felt like an eternity. Our waiting period. Ten years, and then a request for a “pardon” and a shot at a visa application for my husband. Every year I returned to the States, alone, every time, feeling so sad about having to leave my husband in Mexico. Our hopes are about so much more than a visa. Our hopes are about keeping our family together. For me, having to travel alone for 6 years meant it started to affect me a little less every year than the first time.

Now, on this seventh trip back (one year I went twice), my husband’s the one with tears in his eyes.  For the record, I’ve seen Margo with tears in his eyes maybe three times in the eleven years I’ve known him. This time, it was at dinner. Tomorrow, he bids me and his toddler goodbye for three weeks while she accompanies me as a bridesmaid in my friend’s wedding in CA, and my grandmother’s 90th birthday in NY. It’s perhaps not as traumatic a separation as some families experiences when a parent is deported or jailed, but it hurts all the same. I tried to reassure him that we’d call twice a day, and we’d be in good hands, and I’d be as patient as possible with our daughter in his absence (he’s the good cop), but that wasn’t what was upsetting him. “I know, but it’s just frustrating,” Margo said “it’s difficult.”

I started to tear up myself in realizing just how rough this was going to feel for my husband this time around. But then he remembered the one beer I bought him earlier and the mini bottle of wine I got myself a couple days ago. “I want to be able to celebrate the night before we go,” I had said. “Se me estaba pasando,” Margo said, almost forgetting. We poured a glass and I reminded him of the possibility that when 2016 comes we might actually get lucky. “The first lawyer was a lying optimist, the second and third lawyers were truth-telling pessimists, so maybe this fourth lawyer is a truth-telling optimist,” I said, regarding some recent encouraging legal advice we’d heard about our case.

He managed a half-smile, and we toasted. “To 6 down, and 4 to go,” I said. Que sera asi.

3 Replies to “6 down and 4 to go”

  1. Congrats to you and your husband! We will have four down at the end of this year…but our fingers are crossed for a waiver. I hope you find a lawyer who is a realist with compassion. I hold positive thoughts for your outcome. Those trips back home alone are tough. 🙁

  2. I was raised in Puebla, Mexico. As a teenager I moved to the United States as a Permanent Resident (soon a citizen). I have been with Eduardo for almost two years, and it is tough for me to accomplish many of my goals, while he cant because he is undocumented.Moving back to Mexico is probably not as challenging as yours because I have family there. However, I would like to get my PhD here, I am used to live in NJ, and I am scared. Being with Eduardo and start my family is what fills my life of happiness. We are getting married soon, and I will be in exile too because I will go whenever my heart is.

    Thank you, reading your blog provides me the comfort I need. A lot of people do not understand what I will do it, since my future is promising here, but it is a sacrifice that is worth it.

    1. It’s interesting to look back at when I wrote this post…it was 6 done, 4 to go. Now it’s nearly 8 down, 2 to go. You’re right, the legal limitations will affect us forever, if if this is “over with” someday. And since I am not sure how to make the waiver application feasible financially…it might be longer than 10…we shall see. Good luck…

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