We’ve all had one, haven’t we? That secret—or sometimes not-so-secret—list of places to go, experiences to have, and milestones to hit before life slips away. It’s called a “bucket list,” and it’s both playful and a little terrifying—a reminder that time isn’t infinite. Looking back, I can see how my own list has changed, almost shape-shifting with each stage of life.

In my twenties, life felt like a balancing act. I was trying to move past trauma, starting out in a career, and nurturing relationships. Those years were about figuring out who I was and what I wanted, with my eyes on the horizon and my feet barely on the ground. The bucket list existed then, but it was mostly dreams in the distance, placeholders for a future I assumed would always be there.

In my thirties, the list got buried under a pile of responsibility. I was growing a family, accumulating debt, buying a home, and tackling all the endless renovations that come with it—from shoveling snow in winter to mowing the grass in summer. The bucket list waited quietly, often ignored, as my energy was claimed by bills, chores, and the needs of others.

By my forties, the “me things” seemed almost impossible. The boys were growing fast, my career took up hours I didn’t know I had, and coaching filled whatever was left. Hockey trips, basketball tournaments, were part of every weekend as we became road warriors. And during the winter, the efforts of creating an outdoor ice rink was a top priority. But here’s the thing: I don’t regret a moment of it. I was doing exactly what I wanted, exactly what a dad should. Being on the sidelines, driving to practices, organizing team events, and pouring my energy into the boys activities helped forge a bond that is lifelong. My bucket list may have gathered dust in those years, but I was living a different kind of dream—one built on love, loyalty, and memories that will outlast any trip or adventure.

Now, in my fifties, the landscape has shifted again. The boys are grown, one career has wound down, and now research, writing, and the search for the perfect coffee consumes my time. I crave peace and time to just be ME. The bucket list has returned with a quiet urgency. Time and health are no longer abstract ideas—they are real, and they are limited. Travel, once postponed, now feels essential. I’ve never traveled enough, and I want to feel the world with all my senses: the sounds, smells, and textures that a page or screen can never convey. The passing of time is a vivid reminder that life is rich, finite, and meant to be lived. I need to bring history to life, to feast on the cultural delicacies I have only read about, yet I yearn to taste. To stand where revolution grew and struggles endured. To feel the heartache of the loss of hundreds of lives at the hands of the cruel and privileged.

And yet, even now, I catch myself hesitating. Why am I waiting? It’s easy to convince yourself there will always be another weekend, another summer, another chance—but the years remind you that time is slippery. Life doesn’t ask for permission; it simply moves along.

The bucket list isn’t just about travel. It’s about moments, experiences, and simple joys. Laughing until your cheeks ache, quiet evenings watching the sunset, long conversations with friends, the comfort of a dog resting at your feet or a cat chasing shadows across the room—these are the experiences that linger, the ones that matter long after the dust settles.

The beauty of a bucket list is that it evolves. Goals shift. Priorities change. What mattered in your twenties may seem trivial in your fifties, replaced by peace, connection, and self-discovery. Yet the urgency remains: life is fleeting, and the moments to embrace it fully are precious.

So, I still want to travel. I want to watch the sun set past a field in Ireland, an evening of wine tasting in Italy, snow falling as we approach the Bell Centre in Montreal, …and, to take the time to breathe. I chase experiences, big and small, and remind myself every day: I haven’t been waiting, I’ve been living in the moment. I think I’ll check on direct flights to Dublin.