It's a strange sort of dichotomy we've been living the past two years. Working in Canda, living in America. Living in America, yet not really feeling a part of it; almost in Canada, but not yet being able to settle there. We've been like cats walking the fenceline - that strange place of no-man's-land between two neighboring yards.
If you look across the field to the north of our town, you can see into Canada. With a good arm, a super strong south wind, and a little bit of luck, you might even be able to hit Canada with a stone.
Not that you'd want to do anything so mean to Canada...
It occurred to me the other day that this must be a bit like what Moses and the Israelites felt like...camped on the border of Canaan and not being able to enter.
We've been in a sort of lurch-and-go holding pattern since we moved to this little border town. We've juggled houses, insurance, residences, citizenhips, cities, countries. Three of four of our children hold citizenships in Canada. All four of our children hold citizenships in America. Vlad holds citizenship in Russia, and held a green card in America. Vlad, Spencer, and I are landed immigrants to Canada, and Vlad and I have work permits for Canada. We've crossed the border innumerable times. We have been berated by border guards from both sides, some who don't know the laws and think we're trying to get away with something, some who do know the laws and don't like them, and some who don't know what's going on, but know that we've moved far too many personal belongings into Canada without claiming residence there - and have told us so.
We've moved stuff back and forth from Canada several times and have sometimes even lost track of where we lived, where we belonged. Once after a few-week stay in Canada followed by a several-day stay in the States, I was headed back into Canada and the border guard asked me where I lived. I'd been trying to work that out myself, and in exhaustion and desperation I shrugged and told him "I don't know." They hate it when you say that.
And now, at long last our time of waiting has come to an end.
Yesterday was our own Emancipation Day. No longer slaves to immigration paperwork, we are finally a family of American citizens. In a large room with the flags of many countries hung on the wall, another brick was laid in the stonework of America. In the group of 37 citizens-to-be, we saw the faces of the world and the faces of our countrymen. We sang the national anthem together. Then Vlad, along with 36 other people, took the oath of naturalization. We said the pledge of allegiance. Then Vlad was presented a certificate of citizenship. They took his green card, and gave him an American flag.
It was our victory day. The day we've been awaiting for over eight years. Four moves, two jobs, one graduation, and four children later...we're all citizens of America.
Now we can move to Canada.
Yes, strange. Strange to feel so proud today of being American, and yet be looking forward to moving into Canada, and to love so many things about my second country as well. Strange to be sad leaving America and yet be glad to be living in Canada, and grateful to the country for giving my American-Canadian-Russian family a comfortable and welcoming home.
So today is Spencer's last day in his school. We'll be packing up this weekend and taking some more stuff up to the house that already has our footprints all over it. And we'll get settled into our sort-of-new life up there. (I don't know how to explain it to the border guards!) After all this time of waiting, you'd think we'd be thrilled. And we are, in a way. We're thrilled to be able to stop juggling. To stay in one place. To be done with paperwork. But we're sad to leave America, even if we are just on the outskirts. And we're sad to leave this little corner of the world that has in many ways grown dear to us.
We're sad to leave the people, the house, the backyard, the partially-renovated rooms where we grew and became solidified as a family unit. We came as four. We leave as six. I'll miss the beauty of my school drives, and the tiny hardware store and library and grocery store. I'll miss the church and the coziness of our town, and having an American mailing address for my online purchases. :)
But there is also so much good that we can look forward to....new schools, new church, new friends, reaccquaintance with some old friends, and a bigger house where we will make more memories and probably watch our children grow into adults.
Really, we're blessed with the best of problems: so much good here, and so much good there that we are pulled between the two.
I've heard it explained that when you have another child, you don't have to lose some of your love for the one you already have in order to make room for the next; your heart just grows bigger. Perhaps it is the same way with countries, with homes.
When will they offer the option of North American citizenship?
*All photos are of spots in our town and of the scenery between our house and Spencer's school, except the first green one which really is our view into Canada.
**Yes, I do realize I have no pics of Vlad's naturalization ceremony. Evidently they were all taken with Dad's camera, and he took that back to Arizona with him. When I get them, I'll post them.
