The Airport

I flew back to Vegas from Edmonton for the last time Thursday.  This was my last trip up to see the family before I drive up to pick them up, go to our interview, and then drive back "home" to Vegas.  It was bitter sweet (not really).  The Edmonton airport has become like a third home to me (actually not in a million years).
While I was back in Edmonton this time we received approval from the Immigration Office to submit our applications, paperwork, and supporting documents electronically, so we spent most of this past week scanning document after document and attaching them to emails in the proper order with the proper file names.
We are now finished everything that we can do on our side and so we wait for the Government to tell us when our interviews will be.

As I approached the Immigration officer at the airport for the last time he asked me the usual questions about why I was in Canada and I told him my story, and that is when things got interesting.  I quote our conversation as best as I can remember it.

Officer:  What stage of the process are you guys in?
Me (wanting to sound professional):  We just finished the I-864 and DS-260.
Officer: Have you done the I-130?
Me: A few months ago
Officer:  I just got the I-130 approval for my wife who is also Canadian.  We were hoping we were almost done.
Me:  I wish.  There is still a bunch of stuff to do before the interviews in Montreal.
Officer:  Montreal?
Me:  Only place in Canada that does interviews.
Officer (slamming my passport down on the table and pushing himself back in his chair): &@*!$
Me:  Exactly.
Officer: I can't go to Vancouver or Calgary?
Me: No, the government closed down those consulates ability to do interviews.
Officer: That sucks.

At this point I am suddenly aware that there is a line up of people behind me waiting to go through immigration who are now shuffling their feet and whispering nervously as it appears I am about to be arrested, or at best, am never going to be allowed into the U.S. because it looks like the Immigration officer and I are having an argument about something and IT IS NEVER GOOD TO ARGUE WITH IMMIGRATION OFFICERS.....EVER!!!

Me:  Sorry to be the bearer of bad news.
Officer:  No, actually you've been a big help.  Hope everything goes smooth for you and the family and you are back together soon.  Have a great day.
Me:  Good luck buddy.

We shake hands and I leave.  The Immigration officer calls the next person, who I can tell is longingly looking at the other Immigration officers and wishing to God they had been called by any other officer and the not the guy who just looked like he tore a strip off of me.

As I walked into the waiting area I was keenly aware of how that officer felt.  You keep thinking this process is almost over and then...WHAM!!! something else pops up to slow you down.

So I say this with my fingers and toes crossed:  I think we are almost done the process.  (I just knocked on wood).  I can say with all confidence that we are ready to be done.  We are ready to be a family again.  This separation thing sucks.