Wednesday, April 9, 2025 - Day 239

Wednesday, April 9, 2025

Good morning, all!

I can’t tell if Mother Nature is giving me the cold shoulder or just having a laugh at my expense. Snow? In April? Really? This is prime fireplace weather—quilt wrapped tightly around me, keeping my bare legs warm. I’ve come to love this morning ritual: sitting beside the fire, wrapped like a cinnamon roll in a quilt. I feel like a caterpillar waiting for the metamorphosis that will bring out the butterfly. I’m not sure what my transformation will look like, but I do know this—I’m ready for winter to turn into Spring. Come on, Mother Nature…do your thing. Preferably without frostbite.

Tax season is nearing the finish line, and oh boy, you can practically see the anxiety fogging up our clients’ glasses. Every day brings a new wave of panicked souls clutching documents like they’re golden tickets to salvation. Most heartbreaking are the widows—the ones suddenly left in charge of paperwork their spouses handled for decades.

About 10% of our nearly 700 clients come in with a shopping bag full of envelopes and a look that says, “I’d rather be anywhere else.” The conversation is always familiar:
“I hope I have everything. My husband always did our taxes.”
And they never do.
But they’re resilient. They always say, “I live five minutes away, I’ll go look and find them.”
 I start their return, give them a checklist, and sure enough, many come back within 30 minutes, triumphantly waving a 1099 like it’s the Holy Grail. Sometimes they don’t find it, and we have to send them home and give them more time to search, make calls, or pay a visit to the Social Security office.

Nobody ever seems to have a handy-dandy login and password—which would make the process so much easier. Nope. It’s always the hard way: get in the car, drive somewhere, wait in line, then come back. Sending people home always stings. It feels like I’m leaving someone behind on the battlefield of bureaucracy.

Take yesterday, for example. A sweet lady came in, seemingly well prepared. Intake form? Done. Last year’s return? In hand. ID? Ready. Gold star, right? I asked for her 2024 tax documents, and she confidently pointed to last year’s folder and said, “They’re all in there.” Cue ominous music.

If you’ve ever seen It’s a Wonderful Life, this was a full-on Uncle Billy moment. Remember when he accidentally hands the bank deposit wrapped in a newspaper to Mr. Potter? Same energy. She’d packed everything except the actual 2024 tax documents. She looked at me like I had hidden them under the table for a magic trick.

We went through everything—twice. Nothing. Nada. Zilch. She stared at the folder like it had personally betrayed her.
“I think I’m losing my mind,” she said.
I gave her a warm smile and a list of what she’d need to find, resisting the urge to say, “Well, it’s not that bad… yet.”
 She never came back.

And now here we are—Thursday will be the last day of tax prep, and it’s going to be a tough one. No more appointments, just walk-ins hoping for a miracle. More missing documents, but no more time for treasure hunts. And then… it’s goodbye.

This marks my tenth season preparing taxes. Ten years of forms, folders, frazzled clients, and some of the most meaningful connections I’ve ever made. I had planned to do 25 seasons, all the way to 80—but sometimes life nudges you to step away earlier than expected. Still, I wouldn’t trade a minute of it. There’s something profoundly human about sitting across from someone at their most vulnerable, helping them make sense of a mess they didn’t ask for.

Volunteering gave me a gift—the gift of connection that comes from showing up, living, and being part of a community. If you haven’t tried it…I recommend it.

So while the snow may be falling and the season coming to a close, I’ll carry the warmth of this work with me for a long, long time.

Have a wonderful day.

Love you guys! ❤️

Today’s photo from Charleston, S.C one year ago.