Before I ‘Kick the Bucket’ List

BY SUZIE SCHULTZ GOLD

“Bucket List?” The expression was puzzling. When first heard it, I envisioned one of those functional plastic orange Home Depot pails filled with common household supplies, everything from spackle to picture hooks.

The catchy phrase was coined in 2007, popularized in a celebrated film starring well-known actors Jack Nicholson and Morgan Freeman. In the movie, The Bucket List, two terminally ill men break away from a cancer ward and go off on a road trip with a wish list of things to do before they die.

The trendy idea to compile a list of experiences, things to see and achieve before “kicking the bucket” seemed to have merit. Writing pipedreams down could be inspiring and, possibly, motivation to JUST DO IT.

With determination I set about to compile aspirations in line with a competent linguist, a Nepalese Sherpa, and a Silicon Valley techie. I was well into my sixth decade, but I would move the cobwebs aside in my seasoned brain and stretch the limits of my comfort zone.

On a sun-filled California afternoon, I put pen to paper and began to plan for years of adventure I hoped were still ahead. I made up a list of experiences requiring mental sharpness, physical strength, and a bit of bravery. It was ambitious! They were:

1. Climb Mount Whitney (the highest peak in North America.)

2. Fly over Mount Everest (earth’s highest mountain above sea level.)

3. Learn to read Hebrew.

4. Become scuba-certified and explore the ocean floor.

5. Start a blog.

I was enthusiastic, eager, challenged. I placed the folded ink-filled sheet safely in my nightstand. I needed to keep these goals close by.

And there it rested. Ignored. Forgotten.

The next decade did include many exciting experiences. My husband and I went blackwater rafting in a New Zealand cave, traveled to South Africa on safari, and rode camels in the sweltering Sahara Desert. Locally, I attended body combat classes along with hardbodies half my age. In an intellectual pursuit, I formed a book club with girlfriends, though we focused on lunch more adamantly than discussing chosen novels.

Time had whooshed by and my bedside bucket list was buried until one day, shuffling through the drawer, I found the folded document. I read my goals of 10 years ago with astonishment. Not one item on that bucket list could be checked off.

I considered cheating by adding my actual adventures to the list, just to cross items off.

That’s when I rationalized, like everything else in today’s world, a bucket list should be “fluid.” I was older and ever-changing, so my list should reflect this.

I crumbled up the paper, tossing it in the trash. I would create a new plan, a revamped bucket list.

To make amends about my past failure to become scuba-certified, I vowed to watch a documentary on Jacques Cousteau. Instead of a plane flight over Mount Everest, I would read Sir Edmund Hillary’s account, The Ascent to Mt. Everest. I could do this comfortably on the family room sofa, with a steaming cup of coffee. It was an acceptable compromise, I justified.

Goals that seemed beyond the deep dive of my existing senior status would be avoided this time around. With altered thoughts, I set about drafting a new bucket list. I printed the words in bold black letters:

1. Memorize the Hebrew alphabet—just the letters this time.

2. Read at least one classic such as To Kill a Mockingbird.

3. Travel to a midwestern state so I can say I’ve been there.

4. Try a new activity such as pickleball or jewelry making.

5. Cook something that includes more than four ingredients.

This sounded doable. It was a plan that would keep supplying brain food, but was within reach.

I placed this as a bookmark in the current book club selection, ensuring it wouldn’t be forgotten.

The following week I settled into bed and opened my novel. The paper fell out, blatantly resting on the comforter. Before unfolding the paper, I found myself consumed by thoughts that replayed like a broken record.

Does this bucket list mean anything? When I am dead will it matter? Will anyone know if I accomplished any of these dreams?

I took hold of the paper, walked down the hallway, flipped on the light, and settled down, covered with a soft throw, and reread my words noted a week earlier.

So much was missing?

I pondered, What will be my legacy? What is it that nourishes my heart and fills my soul?

It was suddenly obvious what I wanted to do before I die.

I took hold of the pen, scratched out those bold black letters, and began a third time:

My Bucket List

1. Write my story so that my grandchildren and beyond will know where they came from.

2. Share my good fortune now with those less fortunate.

3. Conserve, recycle, and protect our fragile earth for the future.

4. Tell those I love and cherish what I feel every single day.

Because, seriously, no one cares if I read the classics.

Suzi Schultz Gold is the former marketing director for MCCS Marine Corps Air Station Miramar. After decades of raising children and pursuing a meaningful career, she’s discovered the joy of writing narrative essays in retirement. She published her first memoir, Look at the Moon, in 2021.

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