Waiting

In my short life, there is a lot of waiting I can remember. There's waiting for someone, there's waiting for something. It's finding patience, and it's looking forward to a different life.

Mom left when I was very young. When she finally came back I was not living with my parents anymore. My uncle's family had became my home. I didn't have much to look forward to everyday except for dad's picking me up on the weekend. I got to spend one day with mom, then back to my uncle's on Sunday evening. It was always hard to say goodbye. I didn't understand why I was returned, sent back to living with another family. I felt that I caused this, that I was not wanted.

Nevertheless, I loved spending time with mom every weekend. Dad, mom and I got to spend a brief time living together as a family when I was in 3rd grade. Then mom left for America before I started 5th grade. When I was younger I looked forward to every Saturday and Sunday to spend time with mom. Now I waited to reunite with her when she came back again. Or some way, somehow, I really had no idea how or when it would happen. I remember reading her letters and felt pain, relief and confusion. I did know she loved me. I just didn't know what I did wrong. She promised that we would be together again. So I waited.

When I was in my 9th grade, my godmother brought me to the US Embassy in Taiwan to be interviewed for a visitor visa for the first time. I didn't pass. I felt I failed. I remember my dad pointed out the mistakes I made during the interview, and told me to correct them if we were to try it again. I was very disappointed and discouraged. I wished dad had come with me. After waiting for a few months, after finding out a "better time" to reserve another interview, dad and I went. We did it together, and we both were granted visitor's visa. It was exhilarating. What I had been longing, waiting for since my mother left was finally coming into fruition. It would have been almost 5 years since her departure. I could finally imagine reuniting with her again. I was so happy.

I was 14 when I arrived in New York. Mom registered me in a private school, and began the process of changing my visitor's visa to student visa. I was mostly happy, if a little lonely, living with mom and studying English. It was the most time I got to spend with her, besides the short time we were together as a family. From June to November 1990, I felt home. It didn't last of course. Mom decided the economy was going down, and she wanted to see if Taiwan had any business opportunities for her. She told me it was her dreams that she wished to pursue. She asked me if I would be supportive of her ambitions. I would. She said she would be back soon enough. Then she took off again.

By this time, I was still waiting for her to come back. Then weeks turned into months. I moved from NY to LA. I went from staying with this family to living with another family. She never did come back. We would talk on the phone, but my hope for us being family again was slowly diminishing. I realized I was not a priority. I needed to let her be and let things be. I began schooling in LA, and launched another long period of waiting.

Because mom left NY, my student visa application never received proper care and was never completed. After I moved to LA, she was able to locate an immigration lawyer who understood my situation and made my status legal again. Every walking minute after that, throughout high school and college years, one dark thought that hung over my head constantly was my visa. I knew my legality would become the number one issue once I finished school, and I must achieve permanent residency. Part of the reason, besides I really wanted a life in US, was that mom never had it. I told myself, mom spent all those years here without obtaining it successfully, I had to fight hard to get it. I told myself I would work as hard as I could, wait as long as I could to achieve that goal. I wasn't going to spend years here then finding myself having no green card.

I was fortunate to find a position right after graduation. My visa was eventually changed to a work visa after one year with this company. When I moved onto the second job, I started the green card process. I anticipated the waiting period from 4 to 5 years, I never thought it would end up being close to 7 years of my life. Because 9/11 happened. The immigration policy changed. My files were transferred to backlog center. Certain information was lost, more time was spent on reapplying, re-supplementing the evidence, materials, etc. The wait was draining, sometimes infuriating. I found patience, or patience found me. This lifelong frustration finally ran its course last March. I was exhausted. I was relieved. I was freed.

Consequently the green card arrival jump-started another stage for waiting...

Yes... the right job. Still working towards it. Still waiting on that part of my life to take wing. Life... especially mine, is full of waiting.

Fortunately I have passed the bigger tests.