Yesterday, I opened the below email from Skype:
I haven't needed to call my husband from the other side of the Atlantic in nine months. Can you believe that? After more than two years of being in a long distance relationship, our greatest current communication problems revolve around whose turn it is to clean the bathroom.
It's amazing how quickly we forget the details of past experiences. A few blog friends are going through their own visa processes right now - Robin and Sara Louise especially could use all the good thoughts you have - and sometimes I read their updates and I think, "Was it really this complicated for us?" And then something totally mundane like this, an automatic email from Skype, reminds me that yes, it was that complicated.
The other weekend, Jon and I were out on a walk with Charlie. We meandered our way through the residential streets of Woodley Park to Wylie Wagg for some dog food, which Jon carried in a reusable shopping bag as we walked back across the Duke Ellington Bridge towards Adams Morgan. We swung a left at Columbia from Calvert and, as we approached the Safeway, Jon reminded me that we were out of milk. In one seamless move, I passed Charlie's leash to Jon and he handed me the reusable bag; we sidestepped each other neatly and exchanged a quick kiss. Jon and Charlie continued towards home, our clever dog not even aware of the little dance we'd done, and, as I turned into the grocery store, a man who had been walking towards us smiled at me. "Now that's teamwork," he said.
And I thought to myself, "That's what we went through the visa process for. Not just for big life milestones, but for that. Teamwork."