A year ago, I moved back to Portland from Paris. Although I was thrilled to be home, I had left my heart in Paris. And after being apart for a very long year, the end is in sight. Finally. Thankfully. Happily.

Geoffroy has one final hurdle to overcome before his race to the finish line is complete. We’ve received approval from the US Government for his fiancé visa, been processed by the national visa center, and passed on to the US Embassy in Paris. After submitting piles upon piles of paperwork, Geoffroy finally has an appointment with the Embassy just a few short weeks away. But he’s not in the clear yet.

Next week he’ll undergo an all day doctor appointment. During the appointment, he will be tested for HIV, TB, and SARs, complete a mental health examination, and show proof that he’s received 16 different vaccines. They’ll also take some chest x-rays for good measure.

On the day of his visa appointment, he’ll be expected to provide his police record since the age of 16, proof of our relationship, an affidavit of financial support (I have to swear I can support him for three years), copies of my taxes, my business license, his birth certificate, a valid passport, and several miscellaneous forms – in triplicate no less. Perhaps he should be prepared to offer up his first-born child and his ATM pin as well. He also has to prove he’s never trafficked drugs, does not have HIV, isn’t practicing polygamy, isn’t planning overthrow the government, and hasn’t submitted any fraudulent forms.

If all goes well and the US Government deems him worthy, Geoffroy should have his visa by the beginning of July. When he received word last week with an actual appointment date, we were both a little stunned. We figured the whole process would take a lot longer than nine months.

Of course I’ve been sharing the news with friends and family with a wide grin plastered on my lips. But ironically now is the time people choose to tell me nightmare visa stories they’ve heard in passing. “Be careful when Geoffroy goes through customs on his way here,” one person said. “I heard there was an Italian guy with a fiancé visa that they wouldn’t let into the country, and he actually ended up in jail for two weeks before being deported.” Then there are the miscellaneous stories about the Embassy refusing to issue visas and various deportations tales. They all eneviatably end by saying, “But of course this won’t happen to you.” Let’s keep our fingers crossed.

So with any luck, I’ll be heading to Paris the end of August to bring Geoffroy home. We’re planning to pack up all his stuff, drive from Paris to his parent’s house in Nice, and then fly home. When we make that first step off the plane into the Portland airport I can finally let my breath out!

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