I tried to make your day special, long distance, and I think I succeeded. Hopefully, on your next birthday, we might even be living in the same country. I love you with all my heart and I tell your mother 'thank you' from me, just for having you. You brighten my life and give me hope everyday and I am so grateful that you picked me to spend the rest of your life with.
I love you.
Monday, February 11, 2008
Sunday, February 10, 2008
Rejection!
Tuesday, January 22, 2008 was a typical Tuesday. I went to work. I sang along to the radio or cd on both the drive and the drive home. (I think I should invest in tinted windows for the car to minimize embarrassment at some point in the near future.) I usually come home and greet the dog who motors herself around in a circle by waging her tail more like a propeller than a back-and-forth type wag. I change clothes, clean up the mess she made by destroying something that I inadvertently left with in her reach (usually a book, or some junk mail, a dish rag, an orphaned sock, etc). I called my husband to let him know that I am home and we had a quick discussion about our day and our individual plans for the evening. Then I took her for her nighly walk.
This dog I have is really a great dog. She is very social (almost to a fault), very curious, rarely barks at anything, and will, when bribed, do 'sit' 'lay down' and 'shake.' She is far from perfect though. She requires a lot of attention and exercise to be well behaved. She still jumps on people to greet them, and she takes me for a walk more than the other way around. I am still hoping that since she is only 1.5 years old, she may still settle down a bit more.
She and I generally stay to the same route for a longer walks. We have a wash area behind the apartment complex and we rarely see anyone there. I used to get to that area and unleash her to let her run around a bit, but it didn't take her long to figure out where the rabbits had their holes and she would scare them up and where ever the rabbits ran, she followed. This wash runs parallel to a rather busy street and I know that when the dog is chasing a rabbit, everything else in her world seems to evaporate, including on coming traffic. And there was no getting her back until she had lost track of all the rabbits and that could take hours. So there ended the off leash time. I now have to resort to taking her to a 'dog park' near my apartment every few days since the walks alone are not nearly enough to drain a fraction of her energy.
On the return trip of the dog walk, I stop at the mail box and pick up the mail. Most of the time it is just junk mail and the apartment complex is wise enough to have a trash can right next to the mail boxes. Typically, I pull out the mail, sort through it and dump it in the trash. This particular Tuesday, however, was a 8x11 envelope with 1-2" thickness. I looked at the return address and my heart just sank. I recognized that weight and the weight in that envelope went directly to my heart. The sender of this ominous envelope was none other than USCIS Chicago.
I opened it right there next to the perfectly placed trash can. My dog tugging at her leash, bored with standing in one spot more than 2 minutes. The face page was this:
I stood stunned for a minute but the dog pulled the leash one more time. Behind the ominous face page, was my original application to sponsor a spouse and all if its required attachments (the marriage certificate, birth certificate, proof of relationship, and hosts of other papers the government wants to see). I packed the contents back into the envelope and headed back to my apartment. Upon arrival, I kicked off my shoes, unleashed the dog, and prepared for a very long and depressing night.
I read the Notice of Action a few times to actually digest what it was trying to communicate to me. It said the I-130 was not signed. I looked at the attached I-130 and saw my signature. It took me only a second or two to see the problem. I transitioned from confusion to complete despair. On the bottom of the second page of the I-130 are two signature lines. One for the petitioner (me) and one for a person completing the form, if other than the petitioner. I had signed it on the second line. I felt so completely stupid. Because of my mistake, our entire immigration package and payment was returned. We had to start over.
I debated telling my husband about this problem. I hated myself so much for such a silly mistake that will probably cost us months of more time apart with our lives in limbo, or perhaps purgatory is more of an adequate term, that I didn't want him to hate me as well. I don't think he could beat me up better than I was doing to myself, but I certainly wasn't looking to be chastised by him. I know I deserved it. I had it coming.
In the end, I told him of our most recent news from USCIS. I was initially met with complete silence on the other end of the telephone line. After I failed to gain a response from him, I just told him I would talk to him later and hung up. He called me back 20 minutes later and said, "All I can say, is I am glad it wasn't something I did." Then we both laughed. We were both disappointed at this latest turn of events, but you can't turn back time and 'undo' history. All we could do was sign an new I-130, write a new check since the original check was 3 months old now, and resend the application.
The following day, I made the trip to the U.S. Post office and had the application sent overnight to the USCIS Chicago office. The I-130 application was received by USCIS Chicago on January 24, 2005. I guess the clock starts then.
This dog I have is really a great dog. She is very social (almost to a fault), very curious, rarely barks at anything, and will, when bribed, do 'sit' 'lay down' and 'shake.' She is far from perfect though. She requires a lot of attention and exercise to be well behaved. She still jumps on people to greet them, and she takes me for a walk more than the other way around. I am still hoping that since she is only 1.5 years old, she may still settle down a bit more.
She and I generally stay to the same route for a longer walks. We have a wash area behind the apartment complex and we rarely see anyone there. I used to get to that area and unleash her to let her run around a bit, but it didn't take her long to figure out where the rabbits had their holes and she would scare them up and where ever the rabbits ran, she followed. This wash runs parallel to a rather busy street and I know that when the dog is chasing a rabbit, everything else in her world seems to evaporate, including on coming traffic. And there was no getting her back until she had lost track of all the rabbits and that could take hours. So there ended the off leash time. I now have to resort to taking her to a 'dog park' near my apartment every few days since the walks alone are not nearly enough to drain a fraction of her energy.
On the return trip of the dog walk, I stop at the mail box and pick up the mail. Most of the time it is just junk mail and the apartment complex is wise enough to have a trash can right next to the mail boxes. Typically, I pull out the mail, sort through it and dump it in the trash. This particular Tuesday, however, was a 8x11 envelope with 1-2" thickness. I looked at the return address and my heart just sank. I recognized that weight and the weight in that envelope went directly to my heart. The sender of this ominous envelope was none other than USCIS Chicago.
I opened it right there next to the perfectly placed trash can. My dog tugging at her leash, bored with standing in one spot more than 2 minutes. The face page was this:
I stood stunned for a minute but the dog pulled the leash one more time. Behind the ominous face page, was my original application to sponsor a spouse and all if its required attachments (the marriage certificate, birth certificate, proof of relationship, and hosts of other papers the government wants to see). I packed the contents back into the envelope and headed back to my apartment. Upon arrival, I kicked off my shoes, unleashed the dog, and prepared for a very long and depressing night.
I read the Notice of Action a few times to actually digest what it was trying to communicate to me. It said the I-130 was not signed. I looked at the attached I-130 and saw my signature. It took me only a second or two to see the problem. I transitioned from confusion to complete despair. On the bottom of the second page of the I-130 are two signature lines. One for the petitioner (me) and one for a person completing the form, if other than the petitioner. I had signed it on the second line. I felt so completely stupid. Because of my mistake, our entire immigration package and payment was returned. We had to start over.
I debated telling my husband about this problem. I hated myself so much for such a silly mistake that will probably cost us months of more time apart with our lives in limbo, or perhaps purgatory is more of an adequate term, that I didn't want him to hate me as well. I don't think he could beat me up better than I was doing to myself, but I certainly wasn't looking to be chastised by him. I know I deserved it. I had it coming.
In the end, I told him of our most recent news from USCIS. I was initially met with complete silence on the other end of the telephone line. After I failed to gain a response from him, I just told him I would talk to him later and hung up. He called me back 20 minutes later and said, "All I can say, is I am glad it wasn't something I did." Then we both laughed. We were both disappointed at this latest turn of events, but you can't turn back time and 'undo' history. All we could do was sign an new I-130, write a new check since the original check was 3 months old now, and resend the application.
The following day, I made the trip to the U.S. Post office and had the application sent overnight to the USCIS Chicago office. The I-130 application was received by USCIS Chicago on January 24, 2005. I guess the clock starts then.
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