I have managed to misplace Kevin's social security card. I don't lose things. I especially don't lose legal documents. This is so on brand for 2020.
The reason I discovered this is that his bank card was renewed and we couldn't activate it because the credit union has his social security number incorrect. Because my alphabet brain wrote it down incorrectly years ago and somehow it just now came to anyone's attention.
The person who was helping me was great. Because of enhanced financial security, they couldn't tell me anything beyond "You were one digit off on the last four numbers." I had a guess so I said:
"Let's play a game. The number could be from 1-9, correct?" She laughed and said yes.
I continue: "I have dyslexia and I flip twos and fives, Is it that?"
There was a beat of silence and then laughter. "You are on the right track" she confirms without actually confirming it. And now his card works.
However, his social security card remains lost.
Determined that I have it somewhere, probably illogically filed; I pulled out my filing from my desk. Piece by piece, I have combed through this drawer. There is now a big stack of paperwork that needs to go to recycling.
With that, know that I keep everything. I have the paperwork for all three dogs, dating back to 1991. I found church programs from our old pastor friend. Old ID's, voter registrations, and all of Kevin's NHRA licenses. My old pyrotechnics license and paperwork. Taxes that go back fifteen years. Treatment calendar from when Kevin was sick.
I keep everything.
So, with that I also found this:
Yeah, that was super fun. Restraining orders, divorce papers, receipts for legal fees.
When I messaged my friend, they said "You dug too far." Yeah buddy, I did. Finding that wasn't fun, as one would expect. It set me back a pace or two. Hence the sending it to a friend to just process.
I thought about throwing it away, burning it, burying it in the yard. But I'm holding on to it. And I don't know why. We'll leave that to another day.
So, rolling my shoulders and taking a breath. Let's step back and look at everything that was in that drawer around that small, yet heavy, file:
Puppy adoption papers, three sets.
Titles to vehicles and Home Mortgage paperwork.
Warranties and paperwork for appliances, tools, toys, electronical things.
Medical paperwork, showing broken bones, infections, radiation treatment, miscarriages.
Receipts and itineraries for trips and adventures.
File of nothing but house dreams: paint colors, garden blueprints, torn out catalog pages.
All the files around that small packet of paper show a lifetime worth of goals, setbacks, and victories. What was nearly two years of hell, now eclipsed by 28 years of a whole lotta other sunshine and rain.
Now the drawer is smaller, lighter, and more organized. My heart and brain took a hit but they'll survive.
And I still can't find his card.
And no, it's not in his wallet.