So, two years? Yep, that makes sense. So many elements of her life and her death still feel so immediate to me, as if no time has passed, but that paperwork issue? Can’t argue with that. Time. Has. Passed. Closure by tax year. Closure, courtesy of the IRS and Canada Revenue form letters confirming receipt of the final returns. Closure as I shut down the bank account used to pay estate bills and put the paperwork in a box in my basement.

This has required an adjustment in my self-definition. First I was “recently bereaved” (which society only gives you so much time to be on any kind of public level) and then I was “dealing with the estate.” And now, I’m not. That’s over. Time to move on. 

I’m relieved to be done (and if you’re going through this and need to gripe, I’m here to listen) but I also realize that I felt close to my mom while I was emptying her house and doing paperwork. It was comforting to see her handwriting on file folders and lists. Administering her estate felt like one last service I could do for her, one final connection.

There’s countless other layers to unpack of course. But this is the one that strikes me now.


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