Spring 2013 brought the daunting, predictable realities of death and taxes that were offset by the joyful introduction of a spunky baby girl who has her father’s nose, my chin, and her own delightful energy. This week we attended a family funeral, I compiled another bulging box of documents for my beleaguered tax accountant, and I unpacked our family’s 108-year-old Christening gown for my new granddaughter to wear.
Sometimes death has no sting.
The family funeral became a memorial celebration of life for my husband’s father. He died at age 83 after years of being lost with Alzheimer’s, and his final journey was a quiet blessing. At the service, wonderful stories were shared about past activities when he still remembered the names of his children and grandchildren.
Taxes are taxing.
My first full-time job started forty years ago, and I’ve paid income and property taxes ever since. I don’t mind paying assessments that fund schools and roads, and I willingly share my resources for programs that assist the elderly, help handicapped people, provide for those with special needs, and support the arts. But I am extremely aggravated about the mismanagement of taxpayer money by inept politicians who have less common sense than a child with a piggy bank.
A child knows that when the money is gone, the spending must stop. Our national government leaders, however, continue to spend borrowed money to send foreign aid to countries with regimes that want to kill us and to promote unnecessary and abused entitlement systems that create more takers than makers, all while ignoring the fact that our crippled country in on the verge of irretrievable bankruptcy. Got food storage?
Christening and Customs
On a more joyful note, my granddaughter will be Christened in a hand-stitched dress made by my great-grandmother and worn by my grandmother in 1906, my mother in 1927, me in 1952, and my daughter in 1978. The baby’s ancestors were strong pioneers and hard-working farmers who dreamed of becoming writers, musicians, and travelers. When my son and daughter-in-law present their child to proclaim her name in the presence of God and assembled witnesses, the dress will cloak her with a legacy of tough, talented, spirited women.
Next Spring will bring another opportunity to prepare for the certainty of taxes. And a splendid toddler will walk barefoot in new grass, pick fresh blossoms, sing silly songs, and wonder what’s beyond the fence. We’ll give her a piggy bank and some seed packages to plant in a garden and encourage her to become self-reliant and independent as a tribute to her hardy ancestors.
Many years from now, I’ll share some fine wine with my granddaughters, and we’ll tell amazing stories about our grand adventures. Then I’ll ask them to sing one more song before it’s time for me to go.
Today’s blog is fueled by several small bottles of Wente Merlot from California. It’s available on Delta Airlines and is sufficient when writing a blog at 30,000 feet while flying to a family funeral.
