The saying is something like – the only things certain in life are death and taxes. Well, let me put a twist on that and say the only thing certain to make taxes worse, is death.

I hate doing taxes. The first few years of marriage Eric and I handled the dreaded task, but after he got sick we sent them off to an accountant. Between short and long term disability insurance, and social security income it was much easier to have a professional handle them. And ya know, the whole Eric being sick and neither of us have the time or energy to handle them.

So this year between social security, and insurance, and more disability income there was no way I was going to take that task back on. (And let’s be honest, I probably never will again.) Now, you may be asking, if you sent them away, why are you still complaining?! WELL. Let me tell you why. Because they need so much info that forces me to look back to last year!

“How much did you pay out in medical expenses?” – Wellllll, there was our family deductible, then our coinsurance, then of course the genetic testing that wasn’t covered by insurance (still worth it, btw), just to name a few.

“Did you travel for medical treatment?” – Oh yes. I can make my way around the U of M hospital system blindfolded, and I’ve seen, what can only be described as the city that makes up Mayo Clinic.

These types of questions in and of themselves are not that bad, however getting the information is where it gets painful. I have to look back on bills for services that didn’t help, and sometimes just seemed to make things worse. Like when they tried to replace his G-tube with a button, and ended up realizing they didn’t have the right length so they just replaced his original tube with the exact same one for no reason. All done with minimal pain meds because “it shouldn’t be a painful procedure”. Maybe next time let’s remember that the patient his tumors throughout his ENTIRE body? I also had to figure out hospital dates, and in doing so reread social media and CaringBridge posts, and relive what happened during those weeks in Ann Arbor. Like the time Eric’s nausea was so bad he was hallucinating and I prayed for the first time for him to die because living was too painful. Really just FANTASTIC memories. {insert eyeroll}

Being forced to look back does have its benefits though. Reading through the comments on CaringBridge and Facebook, finding that prayer map where people listed where they were praying from, even reading through my old CaringBridge posts – I can’t help but be struck by the sheer hope and faith of so many, myself included. While it didn’t turn out the way we hoped, the encouragement and support we received were remarkable, to say the least.

I, along with so many others, never stopped believing a miracle could happen. The fact that we didn’t get our miracle produces a lot of complicated emotions. The obvious ones like sorrow and anger, but I would say curiosity can also included. Why did this happen? What is going to come from this loss? Both of those questions can be asked in anger, but in the right mental/emotional state they can also be asked in genuine curiosity. I don’t know if I’ll ever get the answers to those questions, but at least it allows me to be open to the fact that there is a master plan and purpose, and at this point, I’ll take whatever positives I can hold on to. In fact, I have a running list of positives, which includes things like: more closet space, full control over the tv, and the ability to go to South Haven every weekend in the summer…