There was no proposal on bent knee. (But rather me saying, hey, if you ever want to be able to visit the States with us, we’re gonna need to get legally married.) There are no engagement rings or wedding bands. Neither bachelor[ette] parties nor bridal showers will be thrown. There is no white dress. There is no guest list, because there will be no boda (wedding).
Yet I couldn’t be happier. Our entire life is a honeymoon.
It is just a formality, of course. It feels like we’re already married, since we live together and love each other and have a sweet little baby girl.
At this moment, we are separated due to my home country’s ridiculous immigration policy. Jade and I are here in Texas visiting friends and relatives. Bladi, as a Colombian, cannot enter the United States without a visa. And he can’t qualify even for a temporary tourist visa without loads of documentation, money and proof that he won’t go rogue and stay as an illegal immigrant.
So, sometime in July, we’ll go to a Notaria in Colombia (the equivalent of a Justice of the Peace here) and sign some forms and pay some pesos and nothing will change except that he’ll be the Spouse of Me, an American Citizen. Once we’re legally married, we just fill out the forms, pay the fees, go to the interview at the US Embassy in Guatemala and — voila! — he will be put at the front of the line for a coveted “Green Card.” Permanent Residency in the Greatest Country Ever Known to Man.
But sorry, Mom, I still have no plans to move back. At this juncture, we see no reason to leave our lovely home at Lake Atitlan, Guatemala. Of course, everything changes and you never know what’ll happen tomorrow or some months or years down the line.
We will have parties to celebrate the love of our happy little familia whilst in Colombia throughout the rest of the summer and — Ojala — next summer in Texas and California.