I got an email about two years ago that left me sitting absolutely stunned in my chair (it was titled "3900 Saturdays"). I remember at the time it echoed exactly how I wanted to be living my life, and the only thing that has changed is that I feel that way more strongly than ever. It talked about how if we live to be 75, the average life span, we will have 3900 Saturdays. (I still have it saved on my computer if anyone wants a copy). Three years from now I will have lived through half of my Saturdays, leaving me with 1950. To tell the truth I feel like every single one of them are a bonus. I received that email four days before the phone call that would take us to Idaho to be with Nana for the last time.
Nana's death and the weeks leading up to it that I spent there with her I very rarely speak of. It remains a very sacred experience to me, and one that unquestionably and irrevocably changed me forever. In the year and a half since, that experience has caused me to gauge and re-gauge over and over again who I have become and where I am headed. It is also what led me about two or three months ago to begin to write "The List". You know, the one that lists all of the things I want to do before I die. Writing and carrying out the first on the list wasn't so bad. The rest has not been so easy.
Not wanting to live another minute with regret the first one on the list was "Apologize". It suprised me how quickly I got through that sub-list, and even more how it seemed to really freak some people out. (Seriously people! I really and truly just wanted to say "sorry". No ulterior motives! Geez!) Having made this my first goal I waited to write the rest of my list until I had accomplished this, so if I missed anyone in the process I now say, "Please, excuse me for being a pompous butt/ inconsiderate oaf/knucklehead/forgetting your birthday (or other special something)/'insert appropriate title here'." However, I do not apologize for giving that boy a fat lip on the playground when he wouldn't stop picking on that other boy, or for throwing that girl across the desk when she wouldn't stop talking so ugly about my brother. I do most sincerely apologize to that wife whose husband I made look like a fool in front of half the mall because of his unbelievable cruelty to her in public, but only because I'm afraid he went home and took it out on you.
As quickly as I finished with the first on my list, I naturally assumed it would be easy to write the rest. What I have discovered as I have slowly compiled my list is that though there are things I really, really want to do, and places I really, really want to visit, I'm having a very difficult time even coming up with more than 13 real things. It made me question my gumption, made me think I was losing my zeal for adventure and for experiencing life. But what I have realized is that the things that really matter to me are things that I can't just do once and check off. They will take the rest of my life to do and experience. Things that I won't be able to check off my list until I'm gone. Like sitting on the porch swing wrapped up in tangled arms and legs and hands with my family laughing/meditating/listening/being with them as often as I can. Like raising kind, faithful, strong, courageous, children who see their unique and incredible potential and aren't afraid to recognize, embrace, and fulfill it. Like volunteering for Hospice. Like always keeping my heart and eyes open to see who might need an encouraging word or gentle touch. In essence I could have just one thing on my list that would encompass it all....REALLY LIVE.
What I came to understand as I wrote my list is that yes, there are still things I want to do/see/accomplish, but by and large I have the happiest life I know. So absolutely overwhelmingly rich. My first half of the journey, though definately not easy, has been so blessed. I think recognizing that is a large part of what will continue to make the rest so sweet. The other variable is knowing that I have a family (including all my "adopted" family) who have always stood in front of me plowing the way, beside me holding me hand, and behind me encouraging me on, always seeming to know exactly when to do which. All of my adventures, both large and small, have been and are grand because of them. (I just hope Honey will remember that when she finds out that my list includes flying in a bi-plane complete with as many "loop-d-loops" as possible, and sky-diving. I give her approximately 2.1 seconds to call me just a fussin' when she reads this. I bet I can talk D into going with me.)
Refusing to drive a vehicle that isn't 4-wheel drive has for a number of years been my last lifeline to the adventure junky that lives inside of me, leaving that door open to go down any untraveled road (the funnest are the dirt/muddy ones) I come across. While I fully relish and actively safeguard the contentment and peace of home, the curiosity to know what is over the next ridge, or state line, or ocean very rarely eludes me. So my list most definately includes a few adventures. Having said all that, three years ago my Aunt Jeannie and I helped my then 83-year-old Granny climb onto the Tilt-a-Whirl and boy did we ever go for a ride! The tears from the laughter were probably splattering every bystander within 40 feet of the ride with every twirl we made. That experience, among a plethera of others, has taught me that the list of things to check off before I go are more moments to experience, often unplanned, that will really be the joyous stitches in time weaving the extraordinary life I want to live.
Life is the adventure, and the adventures and those we share them with are what make a life. So, I guess now the question simply is, I'm checking off my list...anyone up for a ride?
