Every year around tax time, dad gets all stressed out about “all the things” he has to do. Um, I’m the one collecting and collating all your damn papers for the accountant. I’m the contact person for your estate attorney, accountant, banks, and financial advisor. Sure, I just grab the paperwork, he does still sit down and fill out forms from the CPA… Nonetheless, it’s a bitch and a half. And mind you, I don’t even do my own taxes!!

Needless to say, we hit May and I was feeling home free knowing his tax stuff was done for the season. Nope, not so fast. Apparently, dad recently got wind of some new tax deductions that he can claim on his Taiwan taxes. Yippee! So I got another couple of calls the other day. First, he was insistent that he needed files from the IRS. I’m like, you have all the e-files from the CPA. Just use those. Your 1040s are in there. No, it can’t be something I submit, it has to be official from the IRS. Huh? Who is telling you this? He can’t explain, but just do what he says. Meanwhile, I’m thinking what the fuck is more official than your 1040 with CPA signature– the same doc that lenders use for loans??? He was insistent, so there I go again being sent on another fucking wild goose chase. Normally, whatever, create an IRS account for him and drill down the menus looking for these records that he needs. Well, the IRS recently cracked down on security, so the old account I created for him years ago is no longer valid. Now they require live camera/video verification of identity where you have to take screen shots of your ID, upload, and then verify with a LIVE PERSON. Sounds like a reasonable enough protocol except that my dad doesn’t know how to use the fucking camera on his phone (I still get Facetime videos of his inner ear canal) much less his computer camera. Like he keeps telling me his computer doesn’t have a camera. Dad, I bought you that computer two years ago… it has a goddamn camera!

Anyway, through a miracle of God and a combination of being on his landline, remote tunneling into his computer, and using his iPhone, we were able to jump through all the hoops and get the account created. Then, I find the forms he needs. Grab everything, move it to his computer, print it out for him from my computer tunneling into his computer. You have no idea how tedious these tasks are. Finally, it’s done. And I’m thinking, ok it’s good we have an updated IRS account for him, and now I can pay his taxes for him through that portal.

Two weeks later, another call. I need your help and it’s very important. Of course, all your shit is “very important.” Now instead of the documents back to 2021, he needs all the way back to 2017 AND he needs for Maryland and Federal. What. the. fuck. How much are you saving with this bullshit? Another $5? No, no, it’s more than $5. Yeah, let’s save more money that you’ll never use. I’m like, just contact the CPA and request the files. No, it’s in the two suitcases of tax papers that I stored at your house when I moved back to Taiwan. Oh, the suitcase that you originally wanted me to FLY to Maryland to retrieve from your friend’s basement? I mean, surely the CPA has electronic copies. No, no, you just have to go through the two suitcases and find the 1040 and the Maryland tax return and send them to me. Oh, that’s all???? And hmm, how come last time you told me the 1040 tax returns weren’t what was needed and now all of the sudden, the 1040s suffice? WTF, I’m not a damn idiot just executing on your busy work.

Two plus hours later, I’ve pulled out all the paperwork, disassembled the tax binders that are held together with insanely strong staples which require John and heavy-duty pliers to remove, scanned, and sent the files over. Oh now in addition to the Maryland tax returns, I need proof of all payments made to the Maryland Comptroller. Back to 2017. Yeah, fuck my life!

And btw, the Maryland website is some Frontpage bullshit. The farthest online records go back is 2021. Oh, well can you call and ask about the earlier ones? No. I can’t. Requests for anything beyond requires a special form and NOTARY signature. Thank fucking god, For once, this notary requirement saved my ass. I can do no more on this task. The rabbit hole stops here.

I haven’t called my parents in about two months. The last time we spoke, dad needed me to handle tax items for him (every year). In the process, I got a weird suspicion that he is a victim of elder fraud. Meanwhile, as I was on the phone discovering this, my mother was in the background causing a goddamn fuss. Her condition has continued to deteriorate and honestly, she’s burning out every damn person around her. I know she can’t control her condition, but Jesus Christ, she gets nasty. I was there in November and five days after my COVID quarantine was already too much between the constant outbursts, the nonsensical ramblings, the neuroses, the anger, the biting, the pinching… many people have advised that my father put mom in a memory care home. Through the years, she came close at least twice to getting moved, but she/dad changed their minds last minute.

Anyway, I was trying to access emails/files supposedly sent by his broker in Taiwan. One minute the email was there, the next minute it was gone from the inbox and very quickly, I started to see that it was super sketch. First off, the email came from some random gmail address… something blatantly egregious like partyhome254 or some shit. No scottrade.com or ameritrade.com domain. Then, dad’s yahoo kept flagging it as weird too, hence it was automatically getting moved into the spam folder. Third, the “statement” dad needed for his taxes was just a series of screenshots of graphs. WTF. I told him this was very odd, and that legitimate professionals do not work like this. Instead of him agreeing with me, dad just dug in his heels insisting that he’d known the guy for years, he just talked to him on the phone, and just do it.

When I escalated to express the urgency of this, he basically told me, “Just do what I say, bc I need to finish my taxes.” Meanwhile, remember the multiple times when dad stressed to me how important all his affairs are, and he even suggested once or twice that *I* somehow infected his computer with a virus?!?! I mean, who do you trust? Your daughter who works as a fiduciary in an industry involving multi-million-dollar transactions and who has also managed your complicated financial and legal shit for years, or some rando who can’t even provide a legitimate monthly statement? Holy fucking god.

I was so pissed, and then he just burst into tears talking about how stressed out he is and how miserable his life is. This is where I really see my own personal limitation. If you are miserable and you aren’t doing ANYTHING to improve your situation, do NOT come to me with your sob story, bc I will not empathize.

I get it, for “normal” people, their sobbing father would cause them to back down immediately, apologize, and de-escalate. But for me, I function in the opposite manner. Why? Bc you know what you’re supposed to fucking do! You are in this predicament, bc you are failing to make the necessary changes.

The only thing that was within my capacity was this: I shut up about the scammer, sent dad his goddamn files, and then John submitted his FBAR taxes or whatever the thing is. I then called my aunt and unloaded about how frustrating my family is, and about how terrible their decisions are. All this trouble moving across to the other side of the word so you can save more money that you will never spend anyway. Yes, I get that Taiwan is your “home.” Except that you never leave the goddamn house, so what’s the freaking point, really? And that was the last I talked to him.

No, actually, I did speak with him once after that. A week later, dad called again finalizing his tax stuff and then he did what he always does: “Is there anything else you want to say to me?”

I don’t know why he does that. No. I mean, what more is there to say? You’re miserable and you do nothing, so just continue being miserable. He asks me what he should do. Ugh, for starters, LIKE I SAID, 1) therapy, 2) reach out to the senior center, 3) move mom to a facility, 4) get out of the damn house…

Here’s the thing. I can’t be everything to everybody. As much as I sometimes aspire to be well-rounded with high EQ yadda, yadda, this is just too damn much. If you need someone to just listen and say empty responses like, “That sucks, I’m sorry”, I am NOT that person, and you have to find that service in someone else. I will do so many other things for you, but that’s not one of them.