Friday, February 18, 2011

Burdensome possession...

I hate the system -I fucking hate it.
      I dont like when I hear anyone use those words, it annoys me. But that is how I feel when it is 4am and I happen to wake up and reality hits me about our life. As it stands we are not allowed to live in either of our countries, what is the matter with this world. I have been given the opportunity to divorce my husband and live as a single mother of six in the big fat fucking wonderful USA with all of the trimmings of  no presents at Christmas time. Yippy F-N skippy.
     I bought a condo in Mexico to be with him, to cook dinner for him, laugh, grow, watch him love our children, for what. My father has been taking the weight of purchasing our tickets so that we fly every 6 months back and forth at 3 grande a round trip. That is 4 tickets purchased twice a year, that is an education of 2 elementary age children getting put on the freeway, and that is 9-12 suitcase minimum plus carry-ons at a whopping extra 3-4 hundred dollars not included thanks to the new charges when flying to Latin America from the US. And yes all of those bags were necessary.
      We have a large family living in a shell of a home that we have been equipping with our every day family necessities, like scissors or photos or stuffed animals.....not to mention the gifts of thanks to the family members who are helping us to survive here that we have to buy while we visit the fabeled money tree in the USA. Our home finally after 4 years has things that we did not have for the first couple years, things like beds, a stove, an entertainment center for our TV with rabbit ears, chairs and table, and of course my personal favorite a beloved washing machine that took 2 1/2yrs to accomplish like winning the lotto. We have 2-300 children's books, all brought down over time... we have movies and playstation games.... we even have curtains on our windows that are fashionable and we have finally put up shelves in our bathroom so all that stuff in the cardboard box under the sink can finally be put out where we can access it without shifting through things. We have clothes in storage containers in our overhead storage area that contain every size of children's clothing from newborn girl or boy to size 14, including shoes. I have maternity clothes, fat clothes, and skinny clothes, accommodating warm, hot, or cold weather, including 30 different styles of sandles and flip flops.  We have a lot of things now in our once empty brick shell. When we first came here, our kitchen had this broken fridge from the people before us... we turned it on its side, covered it with a towel, and used it as a table to put our photos, TV, and random things that we needed to drop down when coming in the door. I washed their clothes in the sink, we have had periods of time when we didnt have meat to eat for months, I walked them to and from school twice a day, and went to every show their class has put on for the parents. I now have friends that try to speak their best slow Spanish so that I can feel like I am not alone and they will stand patiently with me on the calle and we have an actual conversation about our kids, or the weather.

       My husband - he is my life. I am not afraid of being alone or even death, because I have his love.

      And then it all comes back to the problem of why I am awake at 4 am, why I am full of rage. Why people wonder why I say fuck all of the time and act so abrupt. I cant live in my home and he cant live in the USA. Ever? Shit yea if I wanna be illegal or face jail sentences for perjury. I am not allowed to reside in my own home with my things with our children and my husband because apparently we are not rich enough to afford a paper that says its ok. And there is absolutely no amount of money as a proven fact, no amount of dream team lawyers, that can afford a simple paper from MY stupid F-N country that says my husband is allowed to live with me. They would rather me be single than to let my husband in the USA. A man who doesnt smoke, drink, never has had drugs in his system.... goes to church every Sunday and loves his family. Perfect for nobody's nothing, it is just him, and the way he is. But that isnt enough in this twisted road of fate of bullshit. I can drag all the kids here without ever returning to the USA. That is the only option left that we have. To live in a country that is not ours without any chance of ever having citizenship, and living under the wire. What will happen when they reach adulthood? What in God's name will happen to my two oldest kids that are left in the USA? How is it possible that we will deal with the tragedy of loss.
        Every problem cycle has a solution. I can fight and argue, I can toughen up and work my living ass off, I can stay focused for as long as need be, but when there is not a solution, then what. What can I work for and put my energy into fixing this issue? I would give my right nut to be able to reside in Mexico where I hear people are complaining that they are doing this it makes me mad, jealous. Yes I know it sucks going from electric to candlelight, but at least you have that option. What am I supposed to do with my children? When they look to me for some stability. Where are we going to live mommy? Even Romeo and Juliet had a solution and it was suicide in the end, is this our option, family suicide? I mean come ON. What the hell is wrong with this fucking system, that will honor bad and say fuck the good. I am without hope today because I am rung-out. All I want to do is live and I have been planning it for so long that now it is time and there isnt anywhere dry enough to curl up and sleep on. Thank you God for the blessings, but... burdensome possession... and the tears roll down my cheeks one more time.

Wednesday, February 2, 2011

leather on skin

        Maybe why this feels so horrible, the immigration issue as it pertains to my family being compromised, is because it was so unexpected. Similar to a death of a loved one. If they were sick for awhile and died, ok it sucks, but we all knew it was coming. However when you are talking in the kitchen about what you will make for dinner when they come back, and they dont ever come back, that is the kind of death that will make you wonder. All the questions that race through your confused and saddened mind. Why him? Why is this happening to me? Is God listening? Blah blah blah...
       We were just living our lives, and until recently, always thought everything was ok cause eventually we would get our way, with what we wanted, cause that is just how it is. As soon as my Dad was convinced to help pay, and until the racism died down a bit, we will just wait it out. That would not be a problem to a person who craved adventure.
      But the opinion in the country is getting worse. Nothing seems to be in our favor. I fear for my children's lives.
       My husband was here. It was a way of life, we werent dodging anything, cause at that time, there wasnt anything to dodge. No one cared about his status. But it has found its way out of the dark hole and into the minds of many Americans, how is that possible. I wonder if it is a dream, cause how is it possible this twist of fate could completely unravel my future.

Tuesday, February 1, 2011

my American dreams abortion

I am really angry tonight. It will be a week and I get to be with my husband so I should be happy. When we were on the phone tonight the conversation was quiet. Yes we love each other, no question. But what more can you say. How many times can you say oh the baby is so cute, oh I miss you, lets go over the airport plan once more. I get a "que ases, no mames." I mean really. Hey there was an exciting nothing that happened today. But yea it sucks.
So I think a lot when I am at work about this. I think about how much in common my own life has with an anchor baby. We are both born here, but yet what good is it.
I am starting to feel the emotional pain of my Americanism being sucked out of me like a botched up abortion. I think it would be right to call it the silent scream, silent American scream, the dream scream. I guess it would be the dream scream to the pointy white hats.
But I feel sad. I am mourning my childhood girl inside who is slowly dying. Everything I have ever known to be true about my right to be me, free to be me, is now seemingly a big lie. I hate to feel the loss cause it makes me so angry. Exactly who is taking it. A bunch of uninformed American countrymen who go to the same schools stores and jobs with my family. The ones as a whole who blindly say, its ok as long as they do it legally, I am so sick of hearing that twisted version of copout excuses for pathetic unnecessary ignorance that is destroying my life.
I wonder if I will resent my husband. I wonder if has a clue what I am not allowed to keep for myself, beyond my physical location, it is the me side of our relationship. It is one thing if I moved free will somewhere else. But to have no other option...that is a tough one to swallow.
I cant get why Christians arent fighting for us either. I have asked so many times for them to at least give a little wave to let us know they're there, but I am getting nothing. But hello..."focus on the family" I guess just not ours. We give a warm enthusiastic "you can do it" to the alcoholics, or "she found Jesus through her struggles as a mother of a wayward teen", and even my favorite "let us help the poor". What about our family. Are we in a class of criminals now? We are write offs in the to do lists of the church. I am sad that we do not rate even though God loves us through our pains.
I guess that will be all for now. One more night...