Even the best laid plains run aground, at times. So it was with my late night tax project. Two days earlier, my ego was riding high. I waltzed right into the Accountant’s office, pretty as you please. In my arms, I held a mint green binder, complete with all appropriate tax documents in individual page protectors. Each type of document was placed in the appropriate category, behind section dividers. Tax Returns were printed and placed in front for inspection and I felt victorious.
The accountant looked through everything, saving me a quick $400 in the first three minutes of my visit. As he worked through each section, I won his approval. My head was swelling at a rapid rate, as he complimented me on my work and organizational skills. Ha. I’d indeed conquered something I’d never done before. At least, not in many decades. I was on top of the world. With our meeting completed, I paid him $100 for his time, saving $300 by visiting. I was singing on the way home.
One bit of advice given was that I E-File. “No problem, “ said I, smugly. VST and I E-Filed the last several years. My tax program would guide me through the last steps, leaving me finished with the 2020 Tax year.
When I got home, I looked through the taxes once more, knowing this would be the last time in my life I would ever file as a married woman. It was an odd feeling. Like stepping off a life raft into a sea of hungry sharks. In black and white, there’s no denying it. I’m single and will be that until the end of my forever. Of course, there are the obvious financial implications, with higher tax rates for single people. But, more than that, there is the lonely fact that VST is gone and I’m now a family of one, with Oliver my dependent.
The words printed on the top of the tax form were stark and final. Deceased. 4/8/2020. I’m glad I’m experiencing this near the One Year Anniversary of his death, ending another chapter, as well. As a couple, we’d always come to an agreement on when to start and complete our return. VST was on the conservative side of taxes, making sure that every deduction was supporting by the correct document.
Once, we were summoned to the local IRS Office. There was a discrepancy they needed to discuss with us immediately. Terrified on the long drive into town, we wondered, out loud, what the discrepancy involved. We were hoping for adjoining cells when they locked us away after finding years of mistakes unknown to us. It was a dark drive.
Upon entering the office, the IRS agent brought out our taxes. A line was highlighted in which we had entered a $100 donation to Job’s Daughters.
“Here at the IRS, we take donations very seriously. These donations cannot be made carelessly, and declared when they’re not valid. Mr. and Mrs. Hurt, one cannot make a donation to a person’s daughter. Job would need to be part of a non-profit or religious organization. What do you have to say about this???? ” The agent let the last few words hang in the air, while looking over the top of horn rimmed glasses.
We were speechless. Job’ Daughters is a Masonic youth group for girls aged 10 – 20. It’s a 501 (C) (3) organization, for which all donations are completely tax deductible. We left holding hands, relieved that we would not be ushered to federal jail.
Returning to last night, perched at VST’s desk, I was ready to send the taxes into cyber space. I checked, once more, that all entries were correct. Everything seemed in order, as I pushed the FILE button. An email arrived stating my taxes were on the way. Everything was just great. For 32 minutes. Until, with another email, I found my taxes were rejected. Just like that.
I repeated the procedure two more times, finally realizing, there was a missing code. I needed the code to complete the transaction. A code from last year. A pass-code that VST would’ve hidden in that unusually sharp brain of his. A code now gone forever. A code I would have no way of every finding again.
It was with those thoughts, my ego returned to normal size. There are just some things that are not worth fighting. Pass-codes are one of them for me. The line was drawn there. I threw in the towel. Defeat cuts deeply into the ego. But, defeat it was.
My taxes were mailed in a legal size envelope, Certified Mail, with tracking, thank you very much. There are postmarked March 17, 2020, including a check for taxes due, and all required documents. Just like that, I have cut the rope, now in my own financial life raft. I can create my own codes and carefully record them for later use. There are bound to be rough seas ahead, but also starlit nights, enchanting and peaceful. Let the currents carry me where they will.