It is highly unlikely that we will be deported before Christmas. Of course, if things go as planned, we will not be deported at all. And if we learn before Christmas that we won't be deported, it'll be the happiest Christmas ever. It’ll be happier than the time the Grinch brought back all those presents to the Whos of Whoville and got to carve the Roast Beast. Happier than the time Scrooge popped in on the Cratchits with that giant turkey. Happier than that thing that went down in the Muppet Christmas movie, whatever it was, with the singing vegetables and the rats and that chick with the wonky teeth and everything.
It would simply be the Best Christmas Ever.
But I’m just not convinced that the government likes us that much.
The latest news is that this thing will most likely drag on for months, if not longer, depending on...well. The next part of that sentence contains words I’m not really supposed to know. So I'll leave it at that. Let’s just say I won’t be sending a festive Christmas wreath down to the folks at the USCIS office this holiday season.
With that in mind, it’s becoming increasingly important that we don’t dwell on things. It’s becoming increasingly important that we come up with happy thoughts about deportation instead of focusing on all the nasty-wasty little niggley ones that keep popping up at inconvenient times. Like this one that occurred as I was microwaving some soup earlier today: "Psst. Psst. Hey. Hey, Jenny. Hey! If you get deported, your dog will have to stay in quarantine in Guatemala City for, like a month. Or three months. Heh heh. Yeah. Maybe more. Maybe a year."
And this one: "You know how they'll probably treat your dog while she's in quarantine in Guatemala City, right? Heh heh."
Right. Those types of thoughts just won't do anymore. If we keep entertaining those types of thoughts, by mid-November, we'll be so angry and depressed that the dog will begin to believe she'd be better off in quarantine anyway.
We’re trying to focus instead on the positive. The most positive thing that’s come of this so far (and there are…oh so many positive aspects of it. Just. So many.) is the amazing, selfless, just purely kind support so many of our friends and family have offered us since the whole ordeal was kicked off this past summer. An ordeal, I might add, that is apparently only beginning. Yay. Financially, this will be hard, yes, but it’s the emotional toll that would be the real killer if we hadn't suddenly found ourselves suspended by this net of support that has suddenly tightened up around us. That’s really what’s going to get us through it.
It’s making me go all teary-eyed right now, in fact. I love you guys, man. Thank you. If I could bake you all a batch of spoon cookies just for your own selves, I would. But the thought of it is, frankly, almost more than I can bear, considering my fragile emotional state and all. And also the fact that such an undertaking would take about six years to complete, considering how many of you have offered your support and also considering how the making of spoon cookies is so horrendously time-consuming and ultimately produces such low yields. Much like the naturalization process, apparently.
As I make a feeble attempt to wrap this post up with some kind of conclusion that effectively ties the Grinch, deportation, and holiday spoon cookies into some kind of coherent and meaningful package, I...just can’t. The day has simply been too long. The last couple of months have simply been too long. Sorry.