Bucket lists and the like

gray steel cooking pot hanged by brown steel chain

Photo by Peter Fazekas on Pexels.com

As I age, people seem fond of asking if I have made a ‘bucket list.’ Until recently I had not figured out what this meant so I would reply, “No, I have not”. Then I began guessing the meaning and gave the question a bit more thought. What is a soon-to-be 87-year-old wanting to do with the time remains? My questioners seemed to think that I should be planning a parachute jump, a visit to many famous ruins, or even an escapade with a movie star. Those recommending these ideas have many other activities along those lines they imagined I should indulge in, but few, if any actions of this nature, hold any appeal.

Besides, there are some more mundane things I want to do and hope there is enough time to do most of them. If that sounds morbid, so be it. In any event, I don’t see the time problem in that light. Interestingly, one of the items (fairly far down on the list) is to write more blogs, although I seem to be running out of ideas.

What do I want to do? To start with, I want to listen again to all the CDs I have collected. Even better would be to be able to listen to some recordings more than once.  I certainly want to read more books, especially those that have languished on my shelves for far too long. I want to look at more art and stare at more trees and clouds. I want to visit old friends and relive old times.

Much less important is to have a chance to go through hundreds of old files and succeed in refraining from re-reading them. I must get rid of a pile of old electronics starting with my first miraculous hand-held calculator, a Palm Pilot, two ancient lap tops and one, long deceased iMac computer. As well, there are boxes of wires, connectors, plugs, and the like that I have kept but cannot figure out why. They need to be tossed out though I cannot help thinking I will need some one day. I need to decide what to do with precious old scrap books.

[I know, I know. I need to declutter. I agree. Stop badgering me!]

Returning to the top level, I probably need to include fanciful things that could never come about. These include reliving certain experiences and being able to have a long chat with an idol. For example, I have several questions I would like to ask Gabriel Garcia Marquez about Love in the Time of Cholera but I know he is no longer alive. That sort of request could apply to the work of many other favourite writers, especially poets. To be greedy, I would also like Benny Goodman or any other great clarinetist to give me a few lessons and some encouragement. Or maybe just a pianist would suffice. (That put-down ‘just’ is for our son, a wonderful pianist, who insists I will never be a good musician because my timing is so bad.  He is right, of course).

What else? The list could be endless so I will stop here. But, if I were to continue I would  refrain from referring to the topic as a ‘bucket list’. I have no intention of kicking buckets because I won’t be kicking; I will just be gliding off gently into that good night. (I wonder if that concluding phrase is a variant on name dropping?)

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1 Response to Bucket lists and the like

  1. Tamara says:

    I loved this post but it made me sad.

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