Changing Immigration Status: Part 2

As I mention in Part 1, Enrique and I were still waiting on his change of immigration status in 2008. I don't remember what day it was or even what month. All I remember is that it was a warm, sunny, regular day. At the time, we lived in a large double wide we had purchased and I spent my days entertaining my two little boys, five and two.

Enrique had been working regularly that year building Family Videos in Florida, Texas and a few other states. I hated that he would be gone for so long (sometimes two months at a time) but I also understood his work options were limited and his employment meant I could stay home.

Enrique was due home that very day after being gone for two weeks. I was looking forward to his arrival as I finished washing up the lunch dishes. There was a nice cross breeze coming in from the large living room windows and from the windows in the family room. The boys were flipping their toy cars off my grandmother's antique coffee table and squeeling in delight every time they landed upright. The phone rang, another daily occurrence, and I ran expecting the regular voices on the other line (friends and family).

But it was not my mother, or father, sisters or any of my best friends who greeted me, rather it was an officer. I didn't have time to process anything he said as he rushed through the necessary details. What I had processed was that Enrique had been pulled over along with several coworkers shortly after crossing the Ohio/Micigan border and had been taken into custody. I couldn't understand why but when I heard be could be booked I started to cry. I remember blubering through tears that we had been married six years and had to young sons and knowing myself I probably started sharing many other things that he didn't care to know. I was desperate and called my mom, telling her that I needed to leave right away and go to the police station four hours away. While she hurried over to the house, I hurriedly packed up the boys. They didn't ask questions and I didn't offer any explanations for the rush or my tears.

My mom had just arrived when I was ready to leave but the phone rang once again.

She made it inside first than passed it to me saying it was the officer again. I was so afraid he would say I was too late. Maybe they were sending Enrique somewhere else. He could be deported. What would I do with two kids, no husband, no support, and no income? As I answered the call I was already crying harder than I had before. However, it was not what I expected. They weren't deporting him or detaining him any longer. It had been a case of mistaken identity. Enrique had been released and was already on his way home. I couldn't believe it and was overwhelmed with happy tears this time.

Enrique made it home late in the afternoon and I threw my arms around him the second he walked in the door. We were both grateful the day had had a happy ending but that day validated the constant fear we had going forward. We had already waited five and a half years. We knew we would not be able to live like this forever.