THE BUCKET LIST

There was a movie a few years ago entitled "The Bucket List". I had seen the preview and thought it would be entertaining, so when it was released, Joni and I went to see it. The plot was simple: two men who knew they were dying, made a list of things they wanted to do before the "kicked the bucket". After the initial set-up of the plot, the two unlikely friends - one very wealthy, one very blue collar, one a family man, the other not, one knowledgeable about many things, the other knowledgeable about only one - set out to complete their list. Following were a series of humorous, sometimes emotional scenes.

Knowing my penchant for craziness, my friends who likewise saw the movie began to tease me about my "Bucket List" and what it might contain. And I played along, joking about activities that would be on my personal list: stuff like water skiing behind a four-wheel drive pick-up truck on a flooded country road.

About the same time, a country song became popular: "Live Like You Are Dying". The song tells a similar story of a man who got a terminal diagnosis from his Doctor, and then began advising all to go sky diving and bull riding. The logical conclusion to be drawn from the story is simple. You don't know how much time you have left, and life is short, so take a risk and life everyday to the fullest.

Never, never put off 'till next year that family vacation that you all have talked about at each and every holiday gathering for the last 10 years. We didn't, and I am forever grateful. For years... at each and every family holiday gathering... and several times between the holidays, Bob, my father-in-law, suggested that we "all" take a cruise together. For weeks following the Thanksgiving / Christmas gatherings, we would research cruise itineraries and costs. We would discuss which cruise line was best. We would talk about our plans... But that is all we did: talk. I will admit that I almost began to not look forward to the holidays because I knew the subject would come up. And, I knew that we wouldn't act on those plans, and I would always somehow end up feeling guilty.

But a few years ago, over a period of just a few days in March '07, it happened. As the result of a simple suggestion on the part of my daughter Angie, and the immediate full-time efforts of my father-in-law, all of us - all 15 of us - parents, kids, grand kids and great-grand kids, even unborn Emma (the 15th member of the family and the only one Carnival did not charge) - booked a Christmas cruise. I will never regret not one penny of the cost. I will never complain about one minute of inconvenience I may have experienced.

On Christmas day of '07, Joni and I were laying together in the Caribbean surf... on the beach... on St. Martin. However, it is not the lobster dinner, or the evening dancing, or the beautiful beaches that made it perhaps the most wonderful week of my life. It was that I was my family. I was with the one thing that means more to me than anything else in the world. I was with my genetic family. I have cruised with friends, and make no mistake about it; it was wonderful, it was great, but it was not the same as this... not even close. This was different in ways that I still struggle to understand, let alone articulate.

We arrived in Miami the day before our cruise was to begin. As the day progressed, more and more family arrived and began to get checked in and the Holiday Inn. Hugs... kisses... helping one another with luggage... phone calls... keeping up on where everyone was. All of this and more would be the activity that filled our day. Of special note was the fabulous-beyond-words dinner Joni and I shared together at a romantic little Cuban restaurant. This day would be a perfect beginning to a perfect week.

Our week was filled with so many Kodak moments and memories: miniature golf with the grand kids, dining with family, watching sunrises, sunsets, and rainbows. The beach, the surf, the shopping. The dancing... the list goes on and on.

How could I fail to mention the flights home? Every one's flight got messed up. We ended up somewhere in the Carolinas watching unborn Emma Leigh bump and kick Angie as we all lounged in the airports waiting for our flights.

But my purpose here is not to present a travelogue of our family cruise. Rather, it is to point out that you should never (and I repeat, "NEVER!!!") put off 'till next year.... Little did any of us know as we dined on steak and lobster while at sea what would follow in just a few short months. Little did we know that Bob's heart was, at the time of our vacation, nearing the end of its duty. None of us knew it, but we were rapidly running out of time. We had certainly been through some close calls previously. Bob was an acute diabetic and we had nearly lost him just the year before. But, the fact was, none of us knew how precious and how little time we had remaining to share our lives together.

It was late on a Wednesday afternoon in June of '08 that we got an urgent call from back home. Bob was being rushed to a hospital in Indianapolis. The problem: his heart. Again, my purpose here is not to take you through the personal and private details of that night and the next day. Those hours would be the epilogue of Bob's life here. However, the full story of Bob's life would be lived by all of us in the months and years that would follow. Included in this final account would be the "forever" memories of a family vacation for which we all most likely could afford neither the time nor the money to take.

The point that I desperately want to make is this: live! Live! Life is too precious to waste with worry and despair. Our time together is too dear to squander over petty grievances. How many people do you know that harbor hard feelings toward a family member, sometimes for so long that the reason is long forgotten or no longer important?

Yet, relationships suffer. Days are lost. Months pass by. And before we know it, life is gone. Opportunities pass. Moments that can never be replaced escape. The Bible says that Jesus came that we might have life to the fullest. I, without question believe that perhaps the most accurate measure of just how full a life can be lived is measured by the time we spend with our families.

A wise man once said, "Visiting family is like dead fish; after about three days, it begins to stink." In the same way, it has been noted that the reason the first Thanksgiving was such a spectacular celebration was because every one's families were back in Europe. It may be true that one needs to carefully manage time spent with those we love, so as to not wear out our favor. However, the converse is even more critical. We need even more so to manage our time NOT with family, lest we wake up one day overwhelmed with regrets over the dances not danced... the sunset unseen... the meal uneaten... the hug unfelt.

You can't unring a bell. Neither can you capture events that didn't happen. There are no do-overs. There is no comfort in joys not celebrated. There is no solace in memories unmade. Live. I urge you to live; if not like you are dying, then at least like life is precious. Perhaps it's time to get out your Bucket List and freshen it up. Maybe add a few things... Take a risk... Maybe visit your local travel agent and then call your family. Stop talking about your plans. Put them into gear... You get the idea. Live!