No holes in my bucket

Packing during a big move can unpack a lot of memories and forgotten things. I moved last year, and I found a file of stuff I had written down over the years. And this stuff is not only entertaining to my older self but also revealing. Revealing. Yup that’s the word. Who was I ten, twenty and thirty years ago? I’ve found a few clues.

In the frenzy and chaos of packing, I uncovered a list I’d written, 100 THINGS I’D LIKE TO DO IN MY LIFETIME. It’s written on the back of a church bulletin dated November 17, 2004. So you know what I was doing during the sermon?! Dreaming! Revealing. I was 39 years old. What were my dreams? Here’s a pic of the first 27 and the checkmarks indicate which ones I’ve done.

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Experts call this a bucket list. And they recommend it for everyone. The number one thing on people’s bucket list is to Become a millionaire. Oprah wants to hunt for truffles with the dogs and pigs in Italy which I think is veryyyyy cool! And me?

I want to donate blood, but I won’t have the opportunity. Cancer survivors are exempt. That’s disappointing and I wish I’d done it sooner.

Milking a cow only looks romantic in the movies. It is difficult. and slippery. and stinky.

Run a half marathon! My first was the Scotiabank half marathon, a race which celebrated my cancer survival date and the race which will always remain my favourite. For two reasons: I ran with my Matty, and we killed it at 2 hours and 17 seconds and I’d only been running for 5 months!! I’ve since gone on to run full marathons, and I’ve also suffered much worse times, but running is a lifeline for me. I’m thinking about going back to Scotia for the full marathon in October.

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White water rafting with my kids is one of the best memories I have. Watching them laugh uncontrollably at my dramatic screams and exaggerated efforts to stay in the raft! For the record, I stayed in the raft. The kids may or MAY NOT have been as skilled as me.

Swim with dolphins. It was amazing, but now that I realize they are held in captivity against their nature. Meh.

I did learn to paint. Ill never be Michelangelo, but it was fun. My first effort was a painting of Heber Downs, a place I love.

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Paris was cool. Singing a solo even better. And alto? Sang a couple lines in a duet with Pastor Bowler from my “church” days.

I’ve researched the lighthouse sleepover and apparently this is pretty much an impossible dream. If anyone knows where there’s a lighthouse available for rent let me know!

Love my children. That’s a really weird thing to write on a bucket list. Cause isn’t that a natural thing to do? Well, yah for sure. But it also takes work. and time. and commitment. and sacrifice. And it makes perfect sense that I would have written this on my list. Those kids have been my companions and cheerleaders and partners-in-crime and best buds all my life. And now that they’re adults, the bond is even greater.

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My list really does feel like me.

A lot of dreamy stuff in there.

Not many things.

Memories.

and adventure.

Challenges.

Love.

But that cottage with a tin roof. It’s really for the rain. I want to hear the rain in all its glory.

ps. I’d love to hear what’s on your bucket list!


One thought on “No holes in my bucket

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