I’ve spent the last few days in a work and stress-induced fugue state, trying to wrap my head around things. Andrea and family went to meet with our immigration person on Monday. The only sure way that I’ll be allowed back into Canada is for us to file for immigration first. That sounds easier and quicker than it actually is. We’re facing up to a few months before that can happen.

There’s so much that’s happened in the last twenty-four hours that I scarcely know where to start. For the uninitiated, I am American and my wife, Andrea, is Canadian. I have a house in Illinois, empty and for sale by court order from a previous marriage. In August of last year, my wife and I moved in with her Mom in Ontario, Canada. Prior that we had been living with my Dad in Wisconsin, in his three bedroom trailer, with our three large dogs and four cats, helping him recover from major back…