20 years ago today, my husband, a U.K. native from Reading, landed at Logan International Airport in Boston and went through Immigration as an alien for the last time. Long story short, we met the year before and decided we didn’t want to live without each other. I applied for a fiance visa for him and after a three-month state-department-enforced separation and hundreds of dollars in international long-distance charges, he joined me here, with the understanding we would have to marry within 90 days of his arrival. I’ll share more about that on March 14, our anniversary.
I spied him through the double doors in immigration and as he exited, I fell into his arms, ready for whatever challenges might come our way, as long as we were together. I had kept the Christmas tree up and had a boatload of presents awaiting him, including a pair of suede slippers, a Mets jacket and a pair of mountain bikes I’d had on layaway for months… I can happily say there are no regrets…
Oh, and by the way, not only did he get his green card on January 5, but it’s his birthday too!