Join us here in limbo-land!
Join us in limbo-land, otherwise known as Canada. But first the warning. Don’t fall in love with someone from another country. And don’t marry them. But wait, don’t they say love is blind? And who can stymie the path of true love? And aren’t there hundreds of thousands of cross border love affairs?
Yeah, I know what you’re saying. Aren’t you a senior? Aren’t seniors supposed to have gained wisdom to know all this stuff. Didn’t we tell you so? Well, not really. A few might have mumbled it under their breath. Of course, isn’t the path of love rocky? Well, this one is complete with rocks and quicksand and earthquakes and tornadoes and….
Phyliss is an American and I am a Canadian. After our wedding we moved to Ontario. That’s when the problems began in earnest. Mind you before and after the wedding there were problems; Covid for Phyliss, tornadoes, laryngitis for Phyliss, Covid for Eric. Of course, they were accompanied with lots of love.
Still, we’re settled in the charming town of Port Hope. What could dampen our enthusiasm for an autumn enjoyed in Northumberland? Just complete her application for Landed Immigrant status. Complete? How about just start the process. We both stared with glassy eyes at the Internet instructions on beginning the process. Pages and pages of small type. A series of linked Internet forms. Police Checks. Photos. Travel history. A certified copy of our marriage certificate from the Ohio court not sent—which is an essential first step in the process. We’ve been warned that this application period can go on for months and months and months.
Well then let’s tackle her health insurance. “No. Sorry,” her US company said, “your policy lapses as soon as you have a Canadian address. After a series of horrifically expensive quotes later, one company offered a relatively reasonable price only to demand an address from a third country. What? Clearly a scam. Fortunately, my travel insurance company stepped into the breach and wrote a policy only to call Phyliss, Ruth. Ruth Wright? I don’t know anyone by that name.
Next let’s extend the American insurance for her Spark with its Ohio plates. After all, she has six months to continue as a visitor. But no, her insurance company told her that her policy can not be renewed with a Canadian address. We’re told it lapses upon entry to Canada. What about all those American visitors? What about those with Canadian Muskoka cottages? Sigh. Okay, try another way. I’ll just add her to my Canadian car insurance. Whoa baby, that would be too easy. After lengthy consultation, my insurance company informed me that she could not be added as an American with an American driver’s license. Moreover, her car has to be registered with Canadian plates!
Here in limbo-land this is getting complicated. I could move back with her to Ohio. But then I would have the same problems with my car, my car insurance, my health insurance, and my status—and even more expense.
I must say that the clerk at the Ontario Service Centre was extremely friendly and quite helpful. She explained that Phyliss’s car had to be imported to Canada first in order to change to Ontario plates. That form is available at the border. Hadn’t we got one? Well, no, who among us knew this stuff as we, Americans and Canadians, blithely crossed back and forth over the world’s longest and most friendly border? She suggested that our first step was for Phyliss to take an Ontario driver’s test to get an Ontario license, then import the car.
And so, here we live in limbo-land. Happily in love but quite confused and a little insecure. Wondering if we should immigrate to Belize. Fortunately, we have a Heavenly Father who knows about all this and promises to take care of his children. And hasn’t he done this for years and years in Pakistan, the United Arab Emirates, Ohio, and Ontario? Borders do not stymie the King of the Universe. We look to him and bask in His love—and our love for each other.
