Tax Widow

Every year, from January 2 until roughly the middle of April, I'm... alone.

When my wife and I first got together, her work schedule wound its way around her course schedule. I rarely, if ever, had anything scheduled in the evenings. She was busier than I, and as such I found myself housed in solitude.

Living in Buffalo, after our son was born, my sister in law moved in with us during the season. She watched over him while my wife worked and I was away on campus. Worked out rather well for the years we spent in Buffalo.

Back in Syracuse, however, we're back to alternating schedules. It was nice to have her sister around to watch the kids, but she didn't come with us. For the past three years, I would come home from work, and she would promptly leave for work. It took some adjusting the first year (I simply wasn't used to being alone with my kids for such a long amount of time every day. My work shifts kept me estranged from the same family I was trying to support), but as my ability to organize my own kids has grown, I've found myself alone again.

She makes a paper chain. Every link has the current date, and shows the number of days remaining of the tax season. In January, it runs from one end of the wall to the other. It's imposing, daunting. Paper though it may be, that chain holds me down more than I ever expected of 20lb stock.

I'm at the end of the season. Today and tomorrow. A single link of the chain is all that remains. I look forward to shredding it with a most ridiculous glee.