You all know what a Bucket List is, right? It’s a list of things you want to do before you kick the bucket (die).
But maybe your bucket list should include a Love List.
A couple days ago I was talking to my neighbor, Maria, whose husband died in January. She was packing her car with boxes—moving them across town to the small house she bought for herself and teenaged daughter. Down-sizing.
When her husband was sick, she asked him to put her name on his checking account. He said there was plenty of time. Then when he was in the hospital—again she asked. Again he said there was plenty of time. He was hopeful, he was going to get better. And then he died. The bank said she couldn’t close or use the account without his permission. Now that’s tricky.
They each had separate phone accounts. Their youngest daughter was on his. She asked to have T-Mobile move her daughter to her account. They wouldn’t.
When my friend Meighen’s husband Bill was very sick, he prepared her to survive without him. He taught her how to use the photography equipment in his studio. They talked about his funeral wishes in detail. His bucket list included making her transition to life without him easier. He put things in order. He loved her.
Losing someone you love is hard enough without having to bruise your forehead banging your head against all the walls and barriers in your path.
A LOVE LIST.
I’m not dying and neither is John, but after talking to Maria, I suggested to John that we give each other lists—all our passwords and computer info, our credit card numbers and the phone numbers to cancel those cards. Medical stuff. Where’s the title to your car? We have separate checking accounts, but they’re both in a trust. (That was smart, don’t you think). Every thing else we have is jointly owned. But what would he want me to do with all his architecture books? What should he do with my paintings? What about the savings account (teeny-tiny) where Amazon deposits my book sale earnings?
And what if a semi-truck hauling lemons tips over on the highway and squishes both of us? Our kids couldn’t make lemonade from that mess unless they also had the lists.
Show someone how much you love them and trust them. Make a List. If you’re twenty-two or fifty or a hundred and two, it’s not too late—until it’s too late.
So let’s have a forum here.
Can you think of anything I’ve missed that needs sharing with a loved one…just in case?