Monday, August 22, 2011
It’s been 40 days in case anyone is counting since I left my home and everything I loved. It’s my birthday and I am packing for what is sure to be another disappointing trip to Juarez . I have an 18 hour bus trip ahead of me and I want to be excited hopeful but those parts of me are slowly fading. I think that my mother is right, the more education I have the more cynical and cold I get. I want to be hopeful that this trip will be the trip that sends me home to my husband but the logical part of me reminds me that this is a process like everything else, this process is intended to discourage people and take their money and self worth with it and that takes time. My husband and my brother-in-law read the blogs and warn me that people are saying it’s taking them 3 to 4 weeks to get a response from the consulate after they submit a pardon packet. I try to prepare myself for the bitter and cold fact that I may have to return here but I still wonder if maybe just maybe they will see what a good person I have been, how much my family and friends miss me and insist on sending me back. At least for this birthday I wish I had a candle to blow out and make a wish. I’d wish for world peace because it seems more plausible than my return home right now. I say good bye to my grandmother who prays over me and wishes me a safe journey. Eighteen hours of solitude is no way to spend a birthday but I must be punished for the choices that were made for me and be ready to accept the fait I am given.
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