"Tax day" means more to me than most.

April 15th, the day that most Americans dread. This is the last day we have to file our taxes or an extension allowing us more time. However, April 15th means more to me than just taxes. You see, my father was an accountant or as I used to so lovingly call him "a tax man." Not only was he "a tax man" but he was the best tax man ever. He started his own bookkeeping and tax business in the garage belonging to his one and only client and by the end of his life, he had over 800 clients and a very beautiful office all of his own. My dad was brilliant!!! He was so amazing with numbers. I have never been one who was good with numbers in any way shape or form so I always marveled at this amazing talent of his.

Tax season was 3 months full of chaos. Home cooked meals were non-exsistant from January 15-April 15 because any family member who lived anywhere near by were all expected down at the office helping my dad. He did the "hard stuff" while we woman ran errands, mailed letters, answered phones, fed everyone, cleaned the office, greeted customers, kept customers happy and most of all...kept dad happy.

I must say those were 3 VERY LONG months. Months that I never thought I would miss. At about 7:00 or 8:00 on every April 15th we would go out to dinner to celebrate the last day of the official "tax season." Tonight as I am sitting home, I find myself missing that dinner. I never thought I would miss those chaotic filled days. However, I find myself remembering all of the good times we had instead of the chaos.

I remember one of my dad's clients who he had for many, many years was extremely rude to me on the phone. I went into my dad's office and cried telling my dad that I was sorry for upsetting the customer and I didn't want him to lose this client because of something that I had done. Without saying a word, my dad picked up the phone called that client and told him that he was no longer welcome in my dad's office and he would have to find somewhere else to take his business because nobody would speak to his daughter that way. The man not only apologized to my father, but also apologized profusely to me as well. That is the kind of man he was. I also remember that our stake president put a challenge out to our stake that we should be making copies of The Book of Mormon more readily available to non - members. I remember him specifically saying that if you owned a business, copies of this precious book should be right on the front counter where customers could see them right away. The very next day, my dad had several copies on the very front counter. Wouldn't you know, he even had some clients who stopped going to him, but he didn't care because that book meant everything to him.

I am grateful for those tax season memories for they are some of my very favorite. I am grateful for the wonderful father that I had for 21 wonderful years. I miss him terribly but know that I am the luckiest girl in the world for being able to call Douglas Bates Massey my father.