However, sometimes the body takes over, which mine seems to be doing. I'm feeling just slightly under the weather, so I'm hanging at home today, while my husband & daughter gallavant about the town.
This morning, my daughter asked me to sing that Canada song to her.
"What Canada song?" I asked. "You mean 'O Canada'?"
"Yes, that one!"
So I sang:
O Canada! Our home and native land!
True patriot love in all thy sons command.
With glowing hearts we see thee rise,
The True North strong and free!
From far and wide, O Canada,
we stand on guard for thee.
God keep our land glorious and free!
O Canada, we stand on guard for thee.
O Canada, we stand on guard for thee.
And it occurred to me that I need to dig out that book they sent me to prepare for my citizenship test. They might call me any day (week, month, year) to come and take that test.
So how did I come to be on the list for pending citizenship? Did a love for Canada pull me out of the States?
It started as a purely pragmatic issue. I met this wonderful man and knew that I wanted to spend the rest of my life with him. Of course, I've felt this way about other men before (which explains the previous marriage), so why was it different this time? I couldn't tell you. Maybe it wasn't different. Maybe I recognized that I needed to be different in order to make it work out this time.
Anyway, he seemed to feel the same way about me. But he was cautious too. I had been married before. I was just a bit bitter about commitments, especially ones that turn lukewarm.
He said he just couldn't see himself living in the U.S. and besides, he was settled in his job. I was the one itching for a change, so it made sense that I should make the move.
Besides, I was ready to leave my job. It was a good job, but I felt as if I had run my course there. I wanted to try something else, and I was ready to leave Northwest Ohio. Before I met this man, I was eyeing other cities: Atlanta, Denver, Chicago, anywhere a little more dynamic than where I was living. And then I met this man from Canada . . . . hmmm, Canada! New options to consider - wouldn't it be fun to live in Toronto??? Or how about Vancouver?
Well, the item on the menu that day was Windsor, Ontario. But it was a start, and say what you will about Windsor, it's still more interesting than the little town in which I was living. Besides, who knew what the future might bring?
So our original discussions were around just moving in together. I was ready to start graduate school, had my portfolio all together and so on, so we talked about living together in his apartment - he would work and do his best to support both of us while I embarked on my journey to become an academic.
He worried about that. He had previous experience sharing an apartment and a bed with a woman who was going to grad school. He didn't wish to re-live some of that angst. However, if that's what he had to go through to get to the other side (the two of us living happily ever after), he would staunchly trudge through it.
Well, my application didn't pan out. Apparently they loved my portfolio, love my almost 4.0 GPA (only one damned B on my record), loved my GRE scores, loved my references, but didn't feel that my undergraduate coursework was enough in alignment with the course of study I was applying for. They cheerfully recommended I take a year or two of undergraduate courses to prepare for their program.
On to plan B.
We'll just shack. I'll fill out whatever paperwork I needed to fill out to become a landed immigrant in Canada, and I'll just live with him and find something interesting to do. Hell, maybe I'd go back to school and pick up those damned courses.
When we looked into it, it looked like the easiest path for me to get to Canada was to marry this man.
There was no formal proposal that I can remember. It was more of a mutual admission that we each wanted to spend the rest of our lives with the other one. So I immigrated on a fiance visa, meaning that I had to marry him within 90 days of arriving to Canada.
In preparation for his household population doubling, my then fiance bought a house. It was a splendid house - two and a half storeys, brick, hardwood floor throughout, very tastefully decorated, fireplace, french doors dividing all the rooms on the main floor - quite a dream house. I still really miss that house.
My landing date was June 30, 1999. I like to say that it was July 1, since that's Canada Day and it's my birthday.
We filled a huge moving truck and my van with all my stuff. We hired my young strong nephew, his young strong friend, and two young strong university students to help us make the move.
I can't even remember what we did after everything was moved into the house and the kids left. We probably went out to eat. We did a lot of that those days.
So one must wait five years after landing in Canada before applying for citizenship. I wasn't sure if I was actually going to proceed down that road or not, but quite a few things happened since moving here that sealed the deal for me.
The death of my mother seemed to weaken whatever anchor I have to my old stomping grounds. I dearly, dearly love my family. But they would agree that my mother was the fixture, the matriarch, and the magnet that pulled us all together. If my mother had not passed away, we may not have moved to Calgary.
The events on September 11, 2001 had a profound impact on everyone. I was 9 months pregnant, waiting for my baby to arrive, when I saw the events unfold on television that morning. I spent the final 12 days of my pregnancy weeping and watching the border between myself and my homeland tighten.
After the birth of my daughter, I realized that I never, ever wanted any border to potentially keep me from my husband and daughter. People say reassuring things such as it's almost impossible to deport a permanent resident, and blah blah blah. Well, times change. Things we take for granted disappear. It's a whole new order.
So now my citizenship is pending.
This past summer, my daughter and I spent 3 wonderful weeks with my family in Ohio. My husband wasn't able to join us. I know he was beside himself the entire time we were away. It's a little scary when there is a border separating you from those you love most. And while we were in the States, I prayed that nothing would happen to screw up our return to Canada.
I will always be an American, unless I'm forced to renounce my citizenship in order to remain Canadian. Because as long as my husband and daughter are here, I choose Canada.
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