My mother once said that the best advice she ever got from me was to buy raspberries. I don't think this is true, but in the department store relationship between mothers and daughters, advice-giving is the hardware department. What is offered is not always taken as the tool of choice.
I advised my mother to buy raspberries just after my father suddenly passed away. It was a hard time for all of us in our family but obviously the toughest for my mom. I admire the way that she never really thought of losing my dad, and they powered away at their retirement bliss; traveling, as I often said, as if the police were after them. When Dad died, they had just returned from an extended cruise to the South Pacific.
I stepped in to help my mom. I had mostly worked from home in our business, setting my own time and hours, so it wasn't so difficult to spend time with her and help her with all of the details that come after a death. And, more than anything, to listen to her as she processed this enormous loss. Oddly, my sister, who was largely absent through this except for the first weekend, complained to me then that every time you talk to Mom, she cries. Uh, yeah. That's called the process of grieving.
At one point, early on, I was spending the day with my mom which included a trip to her local market. She complained about how much raspberries cost, and demurred on purchasing. And that was when I told her not to worry about the cost. It was clear that there wouldn't be the abundance of travel in her life, and there would be other financial outlays not happening. Plus, she was sad. Mom, I said. Allow yourself these treats. Buy raspberries. Buy whatever you want. I knew she could afford it, but that depression-raised generation seemed to never get over considering the cost of everything. She no longer needed to deprive herself of food delicacies. And, in fact, they hadn't deprived themselves of any of the far-flung travel, so what was a box of raspberries in comparison?
I am not at the age of my mom when she lost my dad, though I am also widowed. But my friends and I have long passed the middle stage of life. Someone recently asked me what travel destinations were on my bucket list. And, for the most part, not really any. I have traveled moderately through my life, making it to Europe a few times, much of the Caribbean, as well as trips or cruises to Panama, Bermuda, and scores of vacations in Hawaii (including two full summers spent there). There are some places I would like to revisit. Bermuda was more beautiful than I ever imagined. The colors of it. And both Sardinia and Mallorca were wonderful. Somewhere along the way, I realized it was islands I wanted to see and enjoy. A week near the San Blas islands off Panama remains a great memory. As do summer sailing trips to Cherry Cove over in Catalina, with a fun group who could really cook in those small galleys. We spent a few nights on a private island off of San Juan Island in Washington state. It wasn't much to see, but the ferry ride was enjoyable, and Friday Harbor was one of those great little seaside villages. Like Bar Harbor, which I also loved.
So, I've done my share. And I got to thinking about the whole bucket list thing. I think rather than a travel bucket list I would like to focus on the bucket phase of life. When we should be doing all we can to enjoy our remaining time. I am so glad that I was smart enough to retire at sixty-five. I am so gratified that I learned to dance salsa twenty years ago. I am overjoyed that I am a Dodgers fan. I have a lot of interests: Music; theater; dancing; spending time with my friends; playing the variety of games that we play. I still work out, but I don't count steps. I eat a Mediterranean diet, moderately, and don't track my fat v. carbs or what might raise my glucose. I let my doctor interpret any tests required. This is by design. I couldn't care less about what those numbers indicate, if I am told they are in a healthy range. I choose not to be held hostage by data; nor spend the time required on my phone to track those things. I want to use that part of my brain for planning all of the things that bring joy to my life. For me, the bucket phase should not be overtaken by a hyper-vigilant lifestyle. If there were ever a time for that, it should be over now. For me, this is the time to enjoy, relish, and breathe deeply of the life I have earned. And, to buy raspberries, whatever the cost.
