Weekend Wanderer: The Ides of January

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weekend wanderer

So I had sorted through Willie’s papers and the most recent tax return I could find was from 2017. 

The documents I’d located were a patchwork of W2s and 1099s.  

Social security W2s for both Indy and Willie from 2021? Check. Social security W2s for both Indy and Willie from 2018? 

Not so much. 

I had tax documents for both of Willie’s pensions from 2018 forward. But I only had Indy’s military pension documents for 2018, 2021, and 2022. 

Well. Nothing easier to get your hands on than military documents. Especially when the military shuts down a veteran’s online access the moment you tell them the veteran has died. 

That’s one thing I have learned in trying to recreate Willie and Indy’s tax trail. 

Another thing I have learned is that there is a tax document for military health insurance.  

That Willie kept for 2021 but no other year. 

I wasn’t even sure what tax documents a retiree needs, to be honest. And what about a widowed retiree? What about a veteran on disability? A deceased veteran? 

Also — here’s where I get a little pretentious. 

I don’t even handle my own taxes.  

I have a guy. 

Well, I have a husband. 

But if you told him the planet’s survival depended upon him finding our pediatrician’s office, we’d all go down in a Deep Impact-style flood of ocean waves. 

We each have our talents.  

I had so many tax questions, the answers to which would determine my next steps. Since I wasn’t about to go back to the magical disappearing accountant, I had to find a new one. 

I have accounting friends upon whose mercy I threw myself. I didn’t want their skills because I didn’t want them to hate me. Instead, I wanted to know who they trusted with their taxes. 

All the better if they didn’t like the person. 

They connected me with someone they do like, someone they were positive could point me in the right direction. 

So on a warm July day, as I huddled alone in a North Carolina hotel room, nursing the pain of my daughter’s sleepaway camp-induced absence with cookies and Black Mirror, I took a call from that brave accountant. 

What documents did I need? Should I really pursue this? Had Willie broken any laws? Could she please, please go to jail? 

I was on track with the documents, the accountant assured me. Yes, I should absolutely get Willie’s back taxes filed. And yes. Willie had most definitely broken laws. 

But no. 

Willie was unlikely to go to prison. 

Would I ever catch a break? 

My next step, the accountant explained, was to access the IRS, Social Security, and military online to recreate the missing tax documents. 

Should be easy. Scammers do it all the time. 

I went to Willie’s. I laid out the tax documents I did have, my list of missing documents, and Starbucks for myself and Willie on Willie’s dining room table. I opened my computer and got to work. 

To access Willie’s IRS and Social Security accounts, I needed to create an ID.me account for Willie. 

It took an hour. 

I then used Willie’s brand spanking new ID.me login to access her Social Security portal. 

Did I want old W2s, the site asked. Click here! 

I clicked here. 

And discovered that, online, I could only get the current and previous years’ W2s. 

If I wanted a W2 older than the previous year — and boy, did I want an old W2! — I’d have to write a letter detailing what years and social security numbers I wanted W2s. I’d also need to fill out a form authorizing a credit card charge because the best things in life are not free. 

Just what you want for an elderly lady at high risk for a scam – her social security number, full name, address, and credit card number floating through the mail.

And no. You can’t send it by certified mail.  

I checked. 

Next, we tried to log in to the IRS, to see if Willie really hadn’t filed a tax return since 2017.  

The ID.me wouldn’t work. 

For an hour, I was booted through a cycle of logging into ID.me, logging into the IRS, re-logging into ID.me — all to no avail.  

So I tried calling. 

Unfortunately, the automated system doesn’t have a number to press for “my mom hasn’t filed a tax return in years but I don’t know how many years and I’m trying to gather the paperwork but don’t want to do extra work and also it’s OK if you send her to jail.” 

Next I called the military.  

They gave me a form to fill out to request Indy’s tax documents. This being the military, it, too, would have to be mailed.  

And it, too, would have Indy’s social security number on it. 

That’s why scammers are so successful. They let hapless daughters like me do all the legwork then just wait until I stick everyone’s social security numbers in the mail. 

It’s been over three months, by the way. Neither Social Security nor the military has sent me a thing. 

And I can’t believe I’m saying this, but we’re only halfway through this story.  

So, in the words of every great sitcom of the ’80s:

To be continued …

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