Happy 2020 Tax Year. Each day, the mail delivers more great news. One year ago, VST drove to Costco to buy Turbo Tax 2019. Each year, he would labor over the taxes, starting with the arrival of the first W-2. Nothing escaped his memory as he worked on the computer. There were be frequent outbursts, but they were always muffled by the office door. He would emerge calm, when it became too much and he needed a break.
Predictably, the preliminary tax amount due was always something that brought us to our knees. It couldn’t be! It wouldn’t be! As VST remembered to enter this and that, indeed, it wasn’t ever as bad as the initial predication. Sparing me the dry run hysterics, he would save the very last examination of the forms for me.
“Darlin’, can you come and look at the taxes with me?” he would ask sweetly. In his office, he already placed a chair next to his, along with forms and supporting documents for joint approval. After a thorough review, together, we would hit the submit button. Team work at its finest.
This year, things are different. I have at least 10 W-2’s, some before death, some after death. IRA documents from the old accounts, and those from the new accounts. The stack is growing day by day. There isn’t a second chair next his his, only Oliver’s dog bed under the desk.
I didn’t run to Costco to buy the latest version of Turbo Tax, but ordered it on Amazon. Shrouded in shrink rap, it sits like kryptonite on his desk, waiting for me. Just me. K and T are coming to visit next weekend, and they’ll give me the strength to begin. Not only is it important that I get this right, it will be an emotional task. This is the first time I need to do taxes alone.
Knowing this year is complicated, I visited a CPA earlier in the year. His answers to my questions weren’t what I wanted to hear. Taxes will be brutal this year, due to some issues that were resolved resulting in additional income. The time to face the tax man is here, and I’m not looking forward it. At least, it will only need to be dealt with once for 2020. I’ll put on my Big Girl Panties, sharpen my pencils, and get to work.
When I open the file cabinet to retrieve documents, the 2019 tax folder glares back. The tab shows VST’s bold-sharpied-notation. 2019 Taxes. Cancer isn’t reflected in the handwriting, but matches 2018Taxes, 2017Taxes, and 2016Taxes. Handwriting doesn’t disclose that within a few short weeks after he wrote out the date, he’d be gone. The folder reminds me how much he loved me and wanted me safe. I remember when he went to Costco, he held his cane tightly. His back had been giving him pain, along with his knees, hand, and neck. There was an urgency that day, when he said, “I need to get these finished. We have all the documents, so, we might as well do them now.” That day, I didn’t understand how few minutes we had left together. I wish we hadn’t wasted them on taxes.
An appointment is made with the CPA for mid-March. Walking in, self-assured, with my completed taxes in hand. I’ll be confident that I did everything correctly, while refusing to make this more difficult than it is. I’ll make VST proud on that visit, but, more importantly, I’ll check off another super-power I plan to master in the next few weeks. Turbo-Tax-Charged, I’m coming for you Tax Man. Don’t worry, VST, I’ve got this. Yes, I do.