Saturday, April 3, 2004
Ahhh...I can finally breathe, again!
Business, business, business (meaning taxes, taxes, taxes) for the last few days. I've done all I can do to make up for my sloppy performance this year in this area. It's in the hands of The Tax Gods, now. The business of tending to an elderly temporary invalid and the business of business do not mix well for me. In my anxiety this year, instead of slogging through with one foot in each, I separated the concerns into two separate paths and chose to tread one at a time, my mother's convalescence having been my first area of concern. Probably wasn't a good idea. I hope the repercussions aren't too severe. Luckily, my mother's taxes this year are relatively easy and I found all the documentation necessary although my lack of even the simplest paper organization this last 6 months strung the procedure into three days of going through boxes and bags of every conceivable type of paper including garbage I'd packed and brought with us. Reminded me of when our family finally left the place I consider my home (above my birthplace, in which I resided only six months), Guam. When we received our goods a month or so later we discovered that the movers had carefully packed everything, including our garbage cans and their contents and ashtrays filled with butts. Shipped it all on a boat that was probably climate controlled only part of the time. That wasn't the messiest problem we had with our household goods when they arrived but it was the most fragrant.
Business has never been my strong suit by choice, not by lack of capability or skill. Working within the business world, although considering the path I chose I could be considered successful and enthusiastic, I remained ethically and morally conflicted. These high anxiety conflicts continue within me unresolved. That's why it was so easy for me to put off facing tax time regardless of the fact that I knew ahead of time that this tax season would be a relative breeze because of the restructuring of my mother's investment assets when the stock market fell. As of October of last year I was fully prepared and knew where everything was. Then, well, yeah, then. Any excuse to avoid that anxiety. I have been overwhelmed with super-intensive caretaking. Now, though, after having collected all the tax stuff, sent it and realizing how well stocked with documentation we were and how straightforward and simple my mother's taxes will be this year, I am ashamed that I refused to face it. I imagine monsters between the sheets when it comes to taxes even when I know better. There are other aspects of my mother's life in which I know I am savvy and successful, bordering on inspired in my performance, but her business is not one of them. This is not to say that I have not scored some successes but they are all late successes, often with penalties (so far minor) attached.
This year I thought that perhaps, if I could bring myself to face the figures, I should consider the financial and emotional relief of finding a business manager for my mother and me to which all business mail, etc., would be directed. We are contacted for decisions and signatures, only. I don't know how soon I'll look into the economic feasibility of this but the idea intrigues me.
It's funny, because when I lived my life on my own without having responsibility for someone else I purposely kept my life business-simple because I am so ethically and morally ambivalent toward business and have butted heads with the business community on three occasions in court over employment (and won, but it wasn't pleasant). Thus, I always kept the financial side of my business very, very, very simple, pre-Mom&Me. For the first four years of our conjoined lives her business and my business were separate, I contributed to our economy by working. She handled her stuff, I handled mine. For tax purposes we were two individuals living in the same house. Her taxes were breathtakingly complicated and required an accountant (whom we have retained). I filed mine on EZ forms and always got a refund.
As the years passed and I began to notice her neglecting aspects of her life I naturally began taking over, as it was agreed I would as we began this journey. The last part of her life that I began to manage on her behalf was her business. I'm probably better at it than she was, especially through the stock market crash, and she wasn't bad, but I am not nearly as prompt or tidy, and I was (and still am, to a degree) a very reluctant participant, much to the dismay of her CPA and stockbroker when I first began to get involved. My problem hasn't been performance but timing. Reluctance to perform. Reluctance to do business.
Handling my mother's business is a brain hyperventilating activity for me despite the fact that when I am 'financially sober' I can see that my knowledge, skill with numbers, intelligence, chutzpah and enforced performance clearly show that I have no need for a paper bag. I'm still in the torturous process of facing this down. On a daily basis I pray that my mother does not die before I get everything in order.
I sometimes wonder how common it is for a caretaker to become overwhelmed by the health circumstances of their charge and let business slip, whether or not they suffer my peculiar brand of business anxiety. Especially those caretakers who are elderly as well but high functioning. It is so easy to put those concerns off even without anxiety over them.
It's funny, too, that I willingly spend thousands of hours a year on determined, vigilant, assertive health care on my mother's behalf, sometimes even before it is necessary, without blinking an eye. I face a variety of perplexing one-on-one dynamic situations not only with vigor and confidence, but I often anticipate and prepare for them in order to be calmer and more level headed as my mother's and my relationship adjusts to the changes required in her care. Both of these are areas that many other caretakers treat much as I treat my mother's financial business. Sometimes I like to think that "two out of three ain't bad". I'm not convinced of this though, so I continue after every financial roller-coaster ride in which I construct the roller-coaster to vow, even as the cart begins another roll, that I will do better next time.
But, anyway, the coaster is slowing dramatically now and I'm trying to figure out how to dismantle this thing before next year.
I have some stuff to report on my mother's physical therapy appointment, some stuff on my acupuncture appointment, and some general stuff...and caretaking calls. No anxiety over choosing caretaking over reporting.
Later.
Oh. Yeah. And what Mom said about living alone. Blew me away. Mentioning it as a reminder to me. And as much of the "Mother and Men" conversation as I can accurately remember. Good stuff. Later.
Business has never been my strong suit by choice, not by lack of capability or skill. Working within the business world, although considering the path I chose I could be considered successful and enthusiastic, I remained ethically and morally conflicted. These high anxiety conflicts continue within me unresolved. That's why it was so easy for me to put off facing tax time regardless of the fact that I knew ahead of time that this tax season would be a relative breeze because of the restructuring of my mother's investment assets when the stock market fell. As of October of last year I was fully prepared and knew where everything was. Then, well, yeah, then. Any excuse to avoid that anxiety. I have been overwhelmed with super-intensive caretaking. Now, though, after having collected all the tax stuff, sent it and realizing how well stocked with documentation we were and how straightforward and simple my mother's taxes will be this year, I am ashamed that I refused to face it. I imagine monsters between the sheets when it comes to taxes even when I know better. There are other aspects of my mother's life in which I know I am savvy and successful, bordering on inspired in my performance, but her business is not one of them. This is not to say that I have not scored some successes but they are all late successes, often with penalties (so far minor) attached.
This year I thought that perhaps, if I could bring myself to face the figures, I should consider the financial and emotional relief of finding a business manager for my mother and me to which all business mail, etc., would be directed. We are contacted for decisions and signatures, only. I don't know how soon I'll look into the economic feasibility of this but the idea intrigues me.
It's funny, because when I lived my life on my own without having responsibility for someone else I purposely kept my life business-simple because I am so ethically and morally ambivalent toward business and have butted heads with the business community on three occasions in court over employment (and won, but it wasn't pleasant). Thus, I always kept the financial side of my business very, very, very simple, pre-Mom&Me. For the first four years of our conjoined lives her business and my business were separate, I contributed to our economy by working. She handled her stuff, I handled mine. For tax purposes we were two individuals living in the same house. Her taxes were breathtakingly complicated and required an accountant (whom we have retained). I filed mine on EZ forms and always got a refund.
As the years passed and I began to notice her neglecting aspects of her life I naturally began taking over, as it was agreed I would as we began this journey. The last part of her life that I began to manage on her behalf was her business. I'm probably better at it than she was, especially through the stock market crash, and she wasn't bad, but I am not nearly as prompt or tidy, and I was (and still am, to a degree) a very reluctant participant, much to the dismay of her CPA and stockbroker when I first began to get involved. My problem hasn't been performance but timing. Reluctance to perform. Reluctance to do business.
Handling my mother's business is a brain hyperventilating activity for me despite the fact that when I am 'financially sober' I can see that my knowledge, skill with numbers, intelligence, chutzpah and enforced performance clearly show that I have no need for a paper bag. I'm still in the torturous process of facing this down. On a daily basis I pray that my mother does not die before I get everything in order.
I sometimes wonder how common it is for a caretaker to become overwhelmed by the health circumstances of their charge and let business slip, whether or not they suffer my peculiar brand of business anxiety. Especially those caretakers who are elderly as well but high functioning. It is so easy to put those concerns off even without anxiety over them.
It's funny, too, that I willingly spend thousands of hours a year on determined, vigilant, assertive health care on my mother's behalf, sometimes even before it is necessary, without blinking an eye. I face a variety of perplexing one-on-one dynamic situations not only with vigor and confidence, but I often anticipate and prepare for them in order to be calmer and more level headed as my mother's and my relationship adjusts to the changes required in her care. Both of these are areas that many other caretakers treat much as I treat my mother's financial business. Sometimes I like to think that "two out of three ain't bad". I'm not convinced of this though, so I continue after every financial roller-coaster ride in which I construct the roller-coaster to vow, even as the cart begins another roll, that I will do better next time.
But, anyway, the coaster is slowing dramatically now and I'm trying to figure out how to dismantle this thing before next year.
I have some stuff to report on my mother's physical therapy appointment, some stuff on my acupuncture appointment, and some general stuff...and caretaking calls. No anxiety over choosing caretaking over reporting.
Later.
Oh. Yeah. And what Mom said about living alone. Blew me away. Mentioning it as a reminder to me. And as much of the "Mother and Men" conversation as I can accurately remember. Good stuff. Later.
