Tax Season

 Herself speaks.

It's tax season. With the assistance of the tax preparer (who is awesome), all the tax returns are completed. There are a bunch for which I'm responsible - multiple trusts, extended family members, and the nuclear family itself - and each required gathering of appropriate papers, review, and the occasional state as well as federal returns. I still need to mail a couple of checks today.  But then it will be Done.

Tax season always makes me think of my Dad. Taxes used to be his job, and he no doubt was methodical and prompt in all of his tax return preparation requirements.  

I wonder: did he feel a sense of satisfaction when he completed this tax task -- or his other myriad behind-the-scenes tasks that he took care of every day? Did he ever feel oppressed by his responsibilities? Did he feel Taken For Granted? Or was he happy to see that everything was Done, and his loved ones had what they needed, without worry?

I think: all of the above. 

I am so in awe of you, Daddy. How did you move forward every day, uncomplaining, quietly competent, thorough and methodical and caring, without fanfare or even sufficient gratitude given to you?  The soul of a saint. So much given. You must have been Tired. 

I am sorry I did not express in words, how much I appreciated your efforts, Daddy. Perhaps I did not truly understand everything you did until you were gone, and I spent more time thinking about you, and I became You in even more ways. 

Be at peace, Daddy. 

I miss you. I am glad that you can have some well-deserved rest now.