Coming and Going

"Swimming with dolphins! That is definitely one of them.” I was flipping through the pages of a magazine and dreaming out loud in response to seeing a dolphin in an ad. “If I made a Bucket List, I think swimming with dolphins would be near the top."

“Huh.” said my husband who smiled at me, but seemed to be half listening. I know that place. It's possible I perfected it. The I-am-not-listening-to-one-word-you-are-really-saying-as-you-have-said-all-this-so-many-times-in-40 years- I-know-all-the-details-already, sort of listening. It’s an art actually. Couples who have been together for decades often master the technique. We just need to hear the topic, vocalize a sound, and let the other know we have all the details, on file. Merely indicate we are still here. Still here, 40 years later listening to all those dreams and catching each other with casual conversation.

“Swimming with dolphins. Going on a whale watch. Seeing horses run wild. ..”

“….Going on an African safari…”

“YES! Going on an African safari!!! Right?! That has always been my number one, thanks. Huh. I don’t think I ever realized 'til right now just how many of my dreams involve animals.” My mind began to wander as I flipped the pages of the magazine and saw another ad.

I paused on a photo of a woman doctor, in her white uniform holding a stethoscope and talking to a patient with gray hair. A young doctor serving an elderly patient. It was an ad for some kind of heart medicine but before I cared to learn more, my mind had begun to think differently about what I saw.
“Now there something I’ll never do. Be a doctor. I am finally too old to think I’ll ever have time to be a doctor.” I said emphatically as I turned the photo for my husband to see. As if seeing it made it personal.

“You never wanted to be a doctor! How can that be upsetting?!”
“Well, it’s not upsetting. I’m just sayin. Even if I wanted to do it, at this age - it’s now officially off the list. It’s not even possible. Like .. playing tennis professionally. Becoming a French chef. Or biologically having more babies.” These disparate choices sounded so bizarre that even I began to recalibrate toward finding a point. “Ok, there are things you just can’t even pretend are possible anymore. Know what I mean? You age out, or your body can’t do it. People may have Bucket Lists of dreams they still want to do but no one talks a lot about the list you suddenly can't do anymore. They just start fading away as being anything remotely possible. Maybe that's why we create Bucket Lists."

My husband gently put his book down and turned his body a wee bit to his left, to face me. It seemed I was wading in murky territory now and he may need to throw me a line sometime soon. If I’m not careful I might get all melancholy or cynical about dreams lost and careers never crafted.
I decided using him as an example might help my point. “It would be like you becoming a professional baseball player. Right? Or being in the Olympics! Or walking the Appalachian trail!!"
"I did walk the Appalachian trail!!!"
 
"Oh. Yeah. Well, you know what I mean. Ya know? All that kind of fantasy stuff that keeps you thinking you might someday, even though you never really could, or would even want to."
We both quietly paused and looked away. Far away into that safe place where older people meet their younger selves and take a wistful look around. It was a short trip, as now I saw the comparison.
 
“Ok, so:
If all those dreams you still want to do before you die is called A Bucket List, then what do you think THIS list is called? The opposite of a A Bucket List is called…”

“A F*ck It List.”

Yes!!! Love this man.