Keeley Jones, a character from the popular show, Ted Lasso, pondered, “Funerals are weird, aren’t they? They’re like a party, but for sad people. Like where everyone knows they have to go and be sad. Maybe you’re not sad, but you have to go and be sad.”

I have been with this thought a lot lately.

My older sister passed away a few weeks ago, after several years dealing with cancer. Her death was sad but not unexpected. She is out of pain. She will be remembered fondly. Life will go on.

I’ve also been looking at the annual task of filing my taxes. Mine are not complicated. An accountant actually files them for me, but I dread the requirement nonetheless.

Like different reckonings that take place around the end of a life, doing my taxes sends me into an uncomfortable audit of my activities and decisions.

Did I win or lose?  Did I earn money as wages, commissions or royalties? Did my investments do well? Can I expect a refund? Am I taking actions to cut my losses next year? Did I make good choices?

Relationships with siblings are complicated. I had over sixty years of experiences to think about as I prepared remarks for my sister’s memorial. I wanted to be positive but also truthful. A virtual highlight reel of the good, the bad, and the ugly played in my head.

I recalled times when my sister brought me close to tears as she’d take over my kitchen when I hosted a party. Serving in this role was automatic to her ­— no matter the venue.

I also thought about the wonderful things she gave me; practical skills she taught me, times when she opened her refrigerator when I was hungry or provided a room and a bed when I was navigating through a life transition.

Although not spoken out loud, I know we both shared similar difficulties with Mother’s Day. We found our way through making a big deal out of the occasion, because it was important to our mother, but found the prospect of choosing a card to be more than challenging.

We both found our family matriarch’s “mothering” skills to be wanting. Neither of us could gush about being “best friends.”

Despite having some painful memories, I had no problem dwelling on fond ones and fleshed out my remarks from those.

Life is what it is. Our characters are (or were) what they are. Everything I’ve experienced has brought me to who I am now and to this moment. I can’t let myself become sidetracked by notions of winning or losing.

I suppose, I’ve been looking at filing my taxes, and auditing decisions behind my current financial status, in the wrong way.

It is what it is. It’s just a snapshot that I can use to adapt or adjust. It’s not all about winning and losing; considering periods of luck, finding loopholes in the code, revisiting jobs that didn’t pan out or contracting help that didn’t turn out to be a good fit.

All I can do is try things with an open mind and open heart. Periodically, I can look at what my choices have led to and RE-CHOOSE if motivated.

Paying what I’m responsible for in taxes is not about a failure to outwit the system or proof that I’m no good with money. (I would like to have more input on how communal money is spent but have no argument with the concept.) Paying taxes can remind me that I have resources.

Benjamin Franklin famously said, “Nothing is certain except death and taxes.” He said this after seeing the finishing touches on the Constitution, which he proudly predicted to be “durable.”

While the underpinning of our democracy has seen better days, the idea that death and taxes are terrible things that are unavoidable carries a significant amount of irony.

I think life’s greatest lesson is to be grateful for everything; Including death and taxes.

Death adds meaning to life. Anyone’s life (and death) touches others. Reconciling taxes is an opportunity to evaluate past choices and RE-CHOOSE.

Embracing the uncomfortable, even the unavoidable, along with the simply joyous, is no small thing.