I think there is still time in this life to learn how to surf. It is one of the things I have always allowed my knee to decide, but it seems worth it to try. I have paddleboarded once, and it was awkward and quite funny the contortions I put myself into stand up on the board. I cannot do that swift pop up from the knees that seems a pretty basic skill one should have to catch a wave, or even to cruise around on calm water. Thankfully, I am a good swimmer that does not mind being tossed around a bit. So this will be on my post pandemic bucket list. I have to say, a bucket doesn't seem a large enough container for all the dreams.
I just looked up the origins of "bucket list" and I am laughing because it never occurred to me that the bucket referred to what one wants to do before "kicking the bucket". Here I was imagining a tin pail full of little strips of paper scribbled with future aspirations. The origins of the phrase "kick the bucket" are disconcerting, and not how I want to refer to any future I might create. One's life should be about the celebration of small moments collected to form a complete story. It should not be about lofty goals and checking off boxes into the moribund.
When my friend was ill and was probably fully aware of her ultimate fate, she was making plans. There were suggested photo shoots, travel arrangements, home renovations, cooking, wine making, gatherings of friends and family, meetings with architects for a future project, and always time for the beach. She was never self defeating, never without curiosity, optimism, and passion. She was sassy and strong. 30 years ago, I met her at the beach in Southern California and said a fond farewell at the beach in Northern California. She will forever live in the ocean waves as will the life lessons I gained by being her friend.