Last week I started my dad's estate tax return. I have known that it was due July 28th, 2011 since October 28th, 2010. I draft, edit and put together estate tax returns for any client with net worth of $X or more and they are always due 9 months after the date of death. I knew the return was due on July 28th when I attempted to draft the return in May. I only entered my Dad's name the first time. A couple of other times I paged through the financial information, but didn't even open the Estate Tax software. I knew what the return would look like, which assets would be on each schedule and that a tax wouldn't be due because it all passed to my mom, but every time I started to work on the return I had to stop. I would get to the part that I had to enter his personal information and I couldn't do it. I had to put in his date of death, but even worse I had to put in his date of birth. Every time I opened the software I could feel the tears welling in my eyes and I would close it. I have done between 5-7 client returns during the nine months with no problems opening the program or entering data, but each time that I attempted to complete my dads I couldn't make it passed the log in screen. It is very easy to put the things that you are emotionally attached to aside if at all possible.
Last week I had to do it. I had to put on my big girl pants and do it. The return on was due on Thursday. I couldn't put it off any longer. I drafted, edited and compiled the return just like I would do for a client. I made the two copies required and an extra for reference. I drove to the courthouse. I even talked with the clerks about the weather as they were file stamping the return. I wrote the check for the filing fee. I generally put the clients name in the memo section of my check so that later I can bill them for the expense. I left the memo blank empty as I handed one of the clerks the check. I grabbed my copy and wished them all a good day.
It was done. The return was timely filed. It was final. I had the file stamped copy to prove it. Instead of feeling relieved I started crying. Had it really been nine months since we packed up the hospice room? Is October really only three months away? Why does 30 have to be my first birthday without my dad? Coming to the end of the firsts makes everything so final. My boss tells people the first year is the hardest and he's pretty intelligent (don't tell him), so I'm assuming he's correct, but this "tip" is not very helpful when you're living the first year.
I blared Sarah all the way back to Woodville. Entering town I slowed down, I knew that I needed to stop at the flower shop. I had put thought into what I wanted, yet it didn't make the stop any easier. As I pulled into the parking spot my tears seemed to dry immediately. By the time I exited the car there were no visible signs that I had been crying. The owner of the shop commented on how nice I looked as I entered...I felt like screaming "Well, I'm glad I look put together on the outside because I'm a train wreck under the fancy clothes and trendy hair style!!!" Yet, I managed to put on a smile, write out my sympathy card and continued on to work and went on with my day with tearless eyes. I turned off Sarah and searched the radio of the first upbeat song I could find. I made up my mind that I was done crying for the day. Partly because I don't like to cry, partly because I felt bad crying just because I had to file a stupid tax return. The Hammitts were preparing to say goodbye to another parent in a little over a year, I should be able to get it together and complete a simple work day.
I did it, without any further tears, but I knew the next day wouldn't be any easier. I volunteered to do the sound at Norm's funeral for selfish reasons. I planned to attend the funeral to support Jenni and Amy, but when the opportunity to hide in the back of the church presented itself, I jumped! At least if tears were falling I would be hidden! At least if that "can't breathe" feeling wouldn't go away, I'd be out of site.
Friday was the first funeral I have attended since my fathers. (I happily volunteered to be the babysitter at the last one I needed to attend and I stand firm in my position that watching nine monsters is much easier than attending a funeral!) I knew it would be difficult watching my friends say goodbye to their father. I knew it would be difficult listening to the wise words from my friend. I was prepared for those things.
I didn't think about what goes on behind the scenes! I didn't think about all the things that Pastor Jen and Dave do behind the scenes at every funeral. I didn't think about how so many people have seen this community oriented man during his life as they loved him or even as they passed him on the street, but now I would be one of the last people to see him before they closed the casket. I couldn't fully comprehend what I was thinking, but as I was trying to wrap my head around my thoughts, my friend approached me and shared her the thoughts that mirrored mine. I was already concentrating on keeping my composure thinking about it, but had to turn away when she said what I was thinking out loud. Final. Unbelievable amount of respect for all Pastors and the wonderful staff and volunteers for Marsh and all other funeral homes after Friday.
I was able to turn away and hide most of the tears. I was able to maintain composure as I adjusted the sound and even as I watched my friends accept the flag in honor of their dad at the gravesite. As I listened to the trumpet sounding "Taps" I watched Norm's loved ones wipe their tears. It was heartbreaking and confusing. I'm still working on not asking the "Why's"...it's really difficult to get passed the "Why's" as you watch three young adults burying their second parent in a little over a year.
I went to my Dad's grave after the grave site service. I'm not sure if I felt obligated because I was already there, if it was because the way the cars lined up I was right in front of my Granny and Papa's site or if I would go there no matter where I was parked, but I finally went. My children had already seen his grave marker along with my mom and in-laws. I have planned to go see it on many days, but had not managed to turn down 582 since his burial until last Friday. It is a nice grave marker. Someone has placed flowers next to it. It's final.
My first year is almost over. My friends first year has started over, AGAIN. They received one of the same stones that we received. Saturday morning Lilly pointed it out and I smiled and told her "You're right, babe, they did. It's because they have a lot of people that love them, too."
I worked and played really hard this weekend. I thought the busyness and giving back would take some of the pain away...it did, for a while. I woke up this morning thinking I was going to be positive and supportive.
Instead I got another c call and I was right back to the "Why's"! I responded how I have been conditioning myself to respond, but today, after my long week of finality, it was difficult. Funerals are only the beginning of the finality.
Tonight I'm going back to "When you can't trust His hand, you can trust His heart."
God is Near.
Love and hugs to u! -jess
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