The day the IRS and I had a heart connection (yes, really)
A friend of mine once said that it’s easier to leave your country than to come back. The bureaucracy can be overwhelming and irritating. As prodigal daughters and sons, we long to be welcomed back with open arms. However, it’s as if our native land opened the door and, with a blank stare, asked:
“Sorry, who did you say you are again?”
“Are you kidding me? C’mon, I went away for a while but I’m not a foreigner!”
Today, however, was different. Something magical happened. A 20 minute phone call with a representative from the Portuguese IRS that was so genuine and heartfelt that we both teared up.
I called because I needed some tax info. Portugal has a state of the art e-government system. Most of your tax stuff is handled online. Say you just paid your kids’ school tuition. Your tax return is automatically populated, without you having to move a finger. This seamless integration helps the country prevent tax evasion, and it makes the lives of citizens easier and less dependent on expensive tax services. It’s like TurboTax, only better and free. Since I haven’t lived in the country for decades, I don’t have access to an online account. Going to an actual IRS office during the pandemic was out of the question, so the only other option was to call them. It was unlikely I would get anywhere, but hey, why not try.
The lady who picked up my call asked for my tax identification number and pulled up my records.
“Ana Lucia. You have the same name as my daughter”, she said.
“Really? What a coincidence!”. I didn’t know if I should be more surprised by that synchronicity, or by the fact that she even brought it up.
“It’s a lovely name, quite uncommon, but my daughter doesn’t like it very much”, sighed the Portuguese IRS.
“Oh, I totally understand. I like my name now, but when I was growing up kids at school would make fun of it [this is all because of Sister Lucia, one of the three shepherd children who reportedly saw Our Lady in Fatima in the early 1900s, spurring a fervent devotion by millions. During my childhood, sadly, the name Lucia was a synonym for “A-Not-Particularly-Attractive-Nun”, making my chances of being popular in school exactly zero].
The Portuguese IRS revealed that her daughter had had the same name-shaming experience. And from that moment on, we became friends. I found out that she was from the same Northern Portugal town as my dad. She also had extended family living in the US, and asked me what it was like to live there. She wanted to know if it was really true that people need health insurance to get healthcare, because she saw it in the movies and thought it was really strange. We talked about how how the US compares to Portugal, I told her my opinion- that in the US one can get better work opportunities, better consumer products and customer service, but that in Portugal life is more wholesome and interconnected. That’s why, I shared, I was considering repatriation so that I could be closer to my parents.
“You are right to do it”, said the Portuguese IRS. “I lost my mom not too long ago, and there is not one day I don’t cry because I miss her. Oh, I’m starting to cry right now just talking about her.”
I was so moved that I also teared up. “I love my parents very much too. I will be so sad the day that they are gone. I’m so grateful that I have been spending more time with them during this pandemic. Everyday moments like having lunch or helping them around the house feel so precious because I was away for so long. I’m fortunate that I can enjoy them while they are alive and well”.
Let’s pause for a second. Imagine that. You’re on the phone with the IRS, and you are both tearing up talking about how much you love your parents.
I got the tax information I needed, and we ended our call, thanking each other for the nice conversation and chuckling about life’s quirky connections.
