Bucket Full of Wishes on My List

Jen Alderman

I’ve never made a bucket list. I guess I have always been so busy trying to get the things I need to get done completed that I haven’t had any time to think about doing the things that I wanted to get done. But when I was diagnosed with cancer, I naturally started thinking about those things, those bucket list items that I should consider trying to get around to, you know, just in case. And mostly I made the list because it was a fun distraction from the reality surrounding me – that I am a 34-year-old Mom trying to survive cancer. The bucket list gave me the outlet to escape that for a minute and dream of all the things I could be out there doing. Here is a sampling of “to-dos” from my bucket list:

Take a snap as quarterback for the Indianapolis Colts – Hey, I never said the items on my list were attainable or realistic. If you’re going to make a list of all the things you wish you could do before you die, then I figure you might as well dream big. And maybe this one isn’t so crazy. What if I attended a practice, and Peyton pulled up with a cramp and Sorgi still had a sore shoulder and Painter was still hiding under a rock from the beating he took in the first game against the Jets? Then just maybe they’d need someone to step in and make a few passes. And who better than a 34-year-old soccer mom recovering from breast cancer? OK, I just read those last two sentences and realize that I sound like a complete lunatic. I guess this one falls under the “when Brett Favre retires or hell freezes over, whichever comes first” category.

Drive cross country in an RV and see the Grand Canyon – I have a burning desire to unleash my inner Griswald and see the country with my family the way God intended, in a gas-guzzling Ramada on wheels. My husband and I have actually had a few conversations about this type of trip. Our game plan is to wait until the kids are old enough to all tie their own shoes and get excited about traveling in a big rig, but before they get too old and spend the entire trip texting to their friends about how lame their parents are.

Attend the Tour De France – I used to run triathlons, about a hundred years ago before chasing my kids became my main form of exercise. I used to hurry home during the Tour and watch the recap of the day’s stages on the Outdoor Network. This was back when Lance Armstrong was dominating the Tour De France, back when he was in the process of winning a total of seven yellow jerseys. My husband would come in and shake his head in confusion when I’d say to him, “Man! Look how bunched up the peloton is coming down this mountain! Somebody’s going to get killed!” And I dreamed of following the tour, of eating and drinking my way through France while I cheered on the American underdogs. My sister and I were inches away from dropping everything and hopping on a plane to Miami to cheer on the Colts this past Super Bowl, and as much fun as that would have been (albeit disappointing) I would take a trip to the Tour over the best Super Bowl tickets in the stadium any day of the week. Unless they were going to let me take the first snap.

Play the guitar and sing on stage with Kenny Chesney – OK, so half of this one falls in the fantasy category again. We saw Chesney at Lucas Oil Stadium two years ago, and quickly realized that he and his band have the greatest jobs on earth. They get to travel the world, meet all kinds of new people, and have 50,000 people a night singing along with their music. I can’t imagine it getting much better than that. I don’t know that I have the emotional stamina (or more importantly, the talent) to be a rock star, but I sure would like to experience that feeling for about 10 minutes. It would definitely be a story for the grandkids someday. I took guitar lessons when I was younger, but never practiced hard enough to get very good, and I always regretted that. I’d like to pick it up again and get good enough to play a few songs so my kids could sing along with me. I can see us all huddled around a campfire on our Grand Canyon RV adventure, singing together in perfect harmony. I sound like lunatic again, don’t I?

The list goes on, and there are some easily achievable items (see New York City) and some more fantasy items (be a contestant on Top Chef) on the list. When I review my list I am reminded of the quote from comedian Paul Feig, “I made my bucket list tonight, and the only thing on it I have any hope of owning is a bucket.” And as much fun as I had compiling the list, I really just want to cross some items off my immediate “to-do” list. Finish chemo, grow my hair back, finish my reconstruction, hang out with my kids, feel normal again – these may not be as exciting as singing on stage or touring France, but if I could successfully check them all off, even if I never complete one item on the bucket list, I would feel pretty satisfied with my achievements. But if the Colts thing happens, that wouldn’t be so bad either.