"It's okay baby, we've already won our prize. It came on Tuesday morning in a brown envelope with United States of America: Immigration Visa stamped across the front."My husband is an amazing man who is always my voice of reason, the one who helps to keep me grounded and is always my big strong shoulder to cry on. This is why we work so well ya see, I'm the dreamer and he's the realist. Our compatibility and peanutbutter-jelly-ness is why we've made it through 10 years of on and off long distance, far too many tearful goodbyes than I care to remember, bucket loads of bullshit and stressful immigration hiccups. And really, the truth of the matter is that I could not possibly feel more blessed to have found him and to know that we're headed for such a wonderful new chapter in our lives. A chapter that starts this very time next month, back in Vermont.
This morning, the news we've been so patiently waiting the last month to hear, ended up being both bittersweet and emotionally charged. Many of you may remember this post when I briefly mentioning a "new and potentially wonderful revelation" that happened the day after we arrived home from London. I was vague then, but I can be more informative now.
Carl's employer (he's a Civil Servant...for the Queen. How posh does that sound, please?) is currently trying to make cutbacks in his department, and as a result offered a select number of it's civil servants what they called 'voluntary redundancy.' This basically means you get a big pay off to voluntarily give up your job. The hubs was offered the opportunity to apply for this as his office would be selecting some of it's employees (seriously the timing was impeccable as Carl was going to be submitting his final notice as soon as his visa arrived in the post anyway).
In the beginning when Carl first told me he'd be able to apply for the redundancy, the large lump sum of money he'd be given if accepted (which would benefit us hugely in terms of getting acclimated again back in Vermont) was of absolutely no interest to me. I cried, I was angry and I was upset. Angry because I knew if he was chosen we'd have to stay in England until at LEAST the end of November (me remaining jobless, homesick, feeling like a big fat lazy bum desperately craving independence, normalcy and, after 4 years without, a Thanksgiving dinner with my family). At that point in time the honest truth is that it was unbelievably hard for me to see through the sadness the anger of having our leaving date pushed back significantly yet again, and I was characteristically ruling my emotions with my heart more than my head. Thankfully, yet again, Carl swooped in with his cape and rescued me with his realist and matter-of-fact attitude.
"Baby this isn't a set back, it's a gift. This could be such a good thing for us. Yes, it'll be longer before we get home. But if we get this redundancy money, our transition will be so much easier and less stressful. Isn't that worth it?"And then it clicked. He was right. This would be something good for us and I knew deep down inside that I was capable of drying my eyes and putting on my big-girl-britches for a couple more weeks. I needed no more convincing, I stopped crying and banned all negativity from my mind. The following day Carl submitted his application, along with many others, for voluntary redundancy. Since then, we've spent the previous month with our fingers, toes, and any other body parts we could manage, crossed. Until today, Friday October 5th, when those who hadn't got the redundancy were announced.
This morning we found out that the hubs was one of the unlucky ones who had not been chosen. And as his Immigration Visa arrived on Tuesday, he submitted his months notice.
The truth is that although I was truly elated to be going home, finally, after 4 and a half long years; tinges of sadness tugged at my insides, I dropped my head into my hands and I cried. I cried because I thought of how that money would help with my astronomical student loan payments, or buying a car, or our wedding, or a house, or a baby. I cried because I know that it's going to be expensive, and hard and difficult to put our life back together again after moving all the way across the world. And mostly I cried because I'm scared. So very scared. But my husband, yet again, with his clear mind, matter of fact attitude and realistic thinking said something which resonated with me through the clouded mind and endless tears.
"The best way to look at this situation is: we can't miss something we never had. Just remember where we were all of those years ago and where we are now."This, my friends, is why I love that man. There I was, my head in my hands feeling sorry for myself, sobbing about something we never had, when really I should have been appreciating what we do. We have each other. We have a wonderful marriage. We have a life together. We have supportive friends and family who love us. We have our health. And we have a very bright future ahead. Sure, the transition from England to America isn't going to be easy, but nothing in life is. It's going to be expensive, stressful, heartbreaking, exciting, difficult, wonderful and scary. But it's part of our journey and it'll sure as hell be worth it. And years down the road when we're settled and living the life we've worked so hard to make, we'll appreciate all of those hardships, crazy emotions and steep learning curves. Because they'll help shape us. They'll make us better spouses, parents and people.
So bring it on! Cause this chick is finally packin' her bags for VERMONT!
Happy Friday love bugs! Enjoy your weekend!
Lots of love, love, love,