Do Bucket Lists Have Expiration Dates?
Tales of travels that test our physical abilities
Glorious, is how I describe the Galapagos Islands. We have returned two years after our first trip here because we became enchanted the first time; so much so that a return trip was essential. This time, we agreed, maybe we could scratch the Galapagos off our bucket list.
However, a lot has happened during these past two years. We aged into our middle sixties, and calamities began. I fell and fractured four bones in my arm as well as dislocated my elbow. Three surgeries later I’m still on the mend. My husband, George, had rotator cuff surgery and learned he had Parkinson’s. We are back in this idyllic place, but are we in one piece?
Whew! So many items on our list have been compromised by our health in just the past two years. I look around, and wonder how some of our fellow passengers are going to be able to participate in this taxing, physical trip. Some have telltale signs of Parkinson’s revealed by stiffness and a shuffling gait. Others walk with canes. Some passengers appear to be well into their 80s. There are two women, each traveling alone, with obvious memory issues.
Even though we are among mostly strangers, we collectively share the excitement of scratching this item off our bucket lists. I’ve become keen to accept that this may be my last trip here. On the first day, I watched George dress in his snorkel gear, and lather his head with sunscreen. Snorkeling never has been his forte; he does it for me. We entered the water and George had an apparent wardrobe malfunction — a leaking snorkel. He began to hyperventilate and returned to the zodiac.
Parkinson’s has stolen something else from me, I think. I sadly continue, looking up often and waving to my handsome beau. This excursion was a beautiful experience. At one point I glided through a narrow tunnel, turned around, and glided back through. Behind me was a white-tipped shark, who was curious about this crazy human. I decided not to tell George about this amazing experience, out of fear of triggering more hyperventilation, a heart attack, or both.
Along on this trip are my younger sister Lisa, and John, her husband. Lisa has spent her entire career on her feet, teaching tennis. Her hips and knees show it. Watching Lisa traverse the lava flows with a walking stick is a marvel. I know she is uncomfortable; everything from the waist down hurts. She, however, continues onward with complete joy. My contentment is palpable. This week is so much more than a bucket list item; it’s a dream of a lifetime. My gratitude pours over because I am able to share this week with Lisa and John.
My sister and I have spent 30 years apart, working very hard. This amazing week is just one of hopefully several rewards for our toil. However, will we be able to tackle our bucket list in the future, elsewhere in the world?
Will we be physically or mentally able, or is our time running out?
Among the four of us, John may have the most time left for adventure travel. He is a specimen; an elite athlete. John favors flip-flops for hiking. Even when wary guides question his choice, John persists, preferring to not soil his sneakers. John is like a mountain goat navigating the lava, and the puddles and mud. He comes away from hikes unscathed, while others show obvious signs of falls and lacerations. While snorkeling, John holds his breath for what seems like five minutes. The beauty of watching him effortlessly swim beneath me in the blue landscape is worth the two days of travel and three plane rides it took to get here.
On our second day of snorkeling, my husband dons his gear and hops in the water. This time, I’m hyperventilating out of fear of another failure. Suddenly, Lisa yells “SHARK” and a beautiful white-tip appears below. Now I know my husband is scared, yet he persists by my side. I’m proud of him. What was one shark becomes too many sharks to count, via a beautiful current-fueled tour along volcanic rocks.
Did Parkinson’s return what it stole from me, just yesterday? I guess the answer is yes, or better yet, George and I decide his triumph today is a battle we won. We lost while snorkeling yesterday, so the win today is important in trying to keep up with this unpredictable disease. Parkinson’s is an illness of takeaways and the score thus far is 1–1. We’re tied; treading in water with Parkinson’s, today.
And for me, the caregiver, there is a glimmer of hope that my future will continue to include snorkeling. As I look around this small ship several sedentary passengers seem to refrain from excursions, especially deep sea snorkeling.
I wonder if their physical abilities have been hampered by the passage of time, or if their definition of a bucket list is different than mine. I’m on to something. Of course, bucket lists are quite personal, yet they do have unknown expiration dates. Unknown for a reason, so we can continue to live.
While George was napping, I decided to snorkel for the second time that day, without him. There is still so much to see in the sea, and I did so with wonderful freedom, knowing George was safely asleep on the ship. It’s not time to cross this trip off my bucket list; the expiration date is 2034.
