Our Story

  A cousin of mine recently said to me, "You'll be glad when you can stop having to be in two places at once, won't you?"  I looked at her in amazement, since she'd said it knowingly and correctly.  She went on, saying, "I bet when you're here physically, you're constantly there mentally and emotionally.  Am I right?" 

  Forgive me, readers.  I'll stop being ambiguous.  My cousin was referring to my constant state of identity and belonging crisis when I'm back in the States but thinking of Scotland.  She was right, too.  I could skip to my current situation and today's not-so-fun research of finding out which British consulate in the States I'll probably end up flying to in order to apply for a fiance visa.  I'll be forced to hold my breath to see if they'll grant me permission to marry and live in the same hemisphere as the love of my life.  Despite the fact that my face will have turned blue at that point, everything will depend upon how well we've prepared, completed our research, can prove we have a legitimate relationship, and, most probably, upon how good of a mood the immigration staff are in at the time we go through our interview.  My life and future hang by that precarious thread. 

  I suppose I've just successfully and somewhat inadvertently started you out there, but I would like to tell you our story from the beginning, if only you'll permit me.  It's a good story.  It's quite romantic and shares many qualities with the fairy tales you all probably believed in when you were children but now have written off as impossible and silly.  Our story is also filled with stress, tears, a love-hate relationship with geography, and decision-making that would frighten Lincoln's statue off of his seat in the Washington Mall.  I'm just warning you.

  Also, I don't expect all of you readers to be interested or care in the slightest, thinking of yourselves as the non-romantic types or as not having time for autobiographies.  I can only ask that you'll realize that my story is one of the beauty of human companionship and the intensity and strength of human commitment in the face of adversity.  I do not claim to be unique - many, MANY others have taken the path I now tread before I ever knew its existence - or my own, for that matter.

  I only ask that you readers will gain from my story at the least some amusement and at the most an understanding of who I am and who we all are.  We humans can endure much more than we think we can.  We can also love like Sleeping Beauty's prince when he hacked through five miles of thorny brambles just to kiss the probably well-chapped lips of a comatose princess - all in the name of love. 

  I don't expect you all to consume my story in a single, gigantic entry, either.  My fingers and your capacities to read would all be numbed to oblivion by that.  Therefore, I'll stretch it out and give it the space it requires.  I'll try to break it up with entries on other topics, too, when the mood hits me or I can hear your screams.

  I'm not going to start it out with this entry, either, since it's already too long and the water in my bath is threatening to extinguish the process of circulation in my body by means of hypothermia.  I just wanted to introduce the idea here, partly to give you all a chance to stretch out and make a pot of tea in preparation for reading my further entries...and partly because I want to.  I'm ready to share it with you.  I hope you'll read it.  If not, though, I hope you'll at least go ahead and make that pot of tea.  It fixes everything.