THE LULU CHRONICLES
We all know how painful it is working on our taxes. Most of you probably have been more organized and diligent than I have and have already sent yours off and have already gotten your return. Bravo! The rest of you are slackers like me. We tend to put it off until we can no longer ignore the fact that we will go to jail if we don’t buckle down and finally do this. I would rather pedal LuLu, the pink bike, in -30 degree weather in my bathing suit than sit down with bank statements and ledgers and figure out where last year’s money went. It’s gone! Who cares?
Figuring out taxes is yet another dagger to my already tattered heart. Gary always did our taxes. I chimed in a little bit but I was more than happy to let him take the lead in this. Cluelessness is underrated. But the sad fact is, I hate numbers. If there is such a thing as being a math dyslectic then I am the poster child. Gary knew this early on in our relationship. He is the only reason I passed Fundamentals of Math our sophomore year of college. He did everything short of actually taking the pencil out of my hand and doing my homework for me. So, when he sat me down a few months before his death and walked me through how to do this, he knew what he was asking of me would be short of a grade B miracle if I could actually pull it off.
What Gary didn’t realize at the time and what I was not prepared for was that each and every entry in our bank statement was a chronicle of our last year together. Such as:
January 22, 2013- Kwik Trip (gas)- $46.50- We were on our way to Mayo.
February 18- Etsy.com- $11.30- Gary surprised me with a sweet necklace made from a tile from a Scrabble game (the last piece of jewelry he ever gave me).
March 22-McDonalds- $3.20- We were sitting in a Rochester McDonalds. Gary was drinking coffee. I was drinking tea. Gary had just had a PET scan at Mayo that later that day would confirm that there were eight cancerous tumors in his liver.
May 24- Mayo Cafeteria- $5.20- Bagels after Gary’s blood tests.
And, so forth and so on…
It’s all there. Every precious excruciating moment of 2013. And to add insult to injury, I’m being taxed for it.
The bank statement entries also show how The Hubs lovingly prepared for what would eventually come. Life insurance payments. Investments, savings, etc., He did all he could to prepare me for this long, long rainy day. How he loved me.
So, Uncle Sam will just have to wait. I’m filing an extension. I can only get through so much at one sitting. But the government will get its due. The Hubs has seen to it. Of course, it goes without saying that 2014 is going to be one ugly, bookkeeping year.
Pray for me.