Today was a day for going through files - looking for a missing social security card. How can it hurt so much to try and sort and file paper? I have piles of notes, articles, pages I have torn out of catalogs. I also have unopened cards and letters, the folder with every piece of paperwork for Bowser. I came across all the travel documents for my Dad’s funeral in March, 2011, stuffed in a folder - finally thrown away today. The folder for my hysterectomy. My birth certificate. I’m 20 years older than my Mom was when she had me. And I’m still wishing for children.
Then the folder that should have had my social security card in it. My old one was there. The one that I signed in my parents bedroom on my Mom’s sewing table. Dad had all three of us sign up for social security at the same time. I remember standing there ready to sign the card. Asking if I should write my name in print or in cursive.
This week i will have to get my new card replaced. The one that has my married name on it. The one that says I’m supposed to be a grown up.