The List

Almost 10,000 feet in the air was a really bad time to realize I was making a huge mistake. What was I thinking? The more important question, what was I doing? I could practically feel the goosebumps popping up on my skin and I knew it wasn’t all due to the fact that the air was much colder now.

“You ready for this, Carol?” Kyle, the instructor who I had only met just this morning, had to yell to be heard over the roar of the engine.

Nope, not even a little.

I gasped as the harness straps, already tight, suddenly yanked me even tighter against Kyle’s body.

A green light came on. The door of the plane, in the safely closed position, suddenly slid open. It was freezing! It was insanity. I was officially insane.

Insanity was a rush. Hours later, I sat on my couch and all I had to do was close my eyes and feel the wind whipping around me in those first terrifying but exhilarating seconds of pure freefall.

“I told you it would be amazing.” My husband Tom’s voice was tinged with amusement, and a whole lot of smugness. “Aren’t you glad now that I wrote it down?”

Cyndi Lauper’s “Girl’s Just Want To Have Fun” blared out from my cell phone, for the tenth time in the past thirty minutes. I’d been avoiding this call for hours now and obviously I wasn’t going to be able to put it off any longer. The ringtone, a polar opposite description of my uptight and serious daughter, usually made me smile. Now I could only muster a grimace as I answered.

“Hi, sweetheart!” I was going for cheerful and casual but probably came across more nervous and squeaky.

“Mother! What were you thinking?”

Oh boy. I should never have posted that picture on social media.

“Tell me you did not just jump out of an airplane!” I winced, yanking the phone from my ear. I didn’t realize her voice could go that high.

“Well,” I hedged, trying to inject a little levity into my tone. “I didn’t just jump. It was more like six hours ago.”

“Do you actually think this is funny?”

“Amy, calm down and let me…”

It was no good. The voice on the other end rose higher and higher and all I could do was sit, nod, and endure my daughter’s tongue lashing. When had our positions reversed? I was still the mom, right?

“Mom, why are you doing this?” Amy’s voice was suddenly thick with tears, and I snapped back into the conversation, unable to bear her distress.

“Honey, you do realize that there was an instructor, right? I was literally strapped to his body. I didn’t just randomly steal the plane and jump on a whim.”

My light response didn’t actually answer her question. The heavy silence on the other end spoke clearly that Amy realized that as well.

“Isn’t doing things on a whim what your whole summer has suddenly been about? Rock climbing? Horseback riding?” Her voice pitched higher again. “You’re being completely irresponsible and that’s just not like you. What’s next, Mom? You going to trade your Toyota for a sports car?”

“No, but I thought a Harley Davidson might be fun.” I regretted the words as soon as they left my mouth, and the harsh breath on the other end made me feel worse. “Sweetheart, that was a joke, okay? Sorry.”

“Well, it wasn’t funny.”

A crashing sound faintly came through the phone line, and then the much louder sounds of two boys yelling.

“Is everything alright?” I asked, wondering what my two grandsons were up to now.

“Mom, I’ve got to go. We are not done talking about this.”

“I’ll see you next Saturday?”

“Yeah, see you then.”

The call abruptly ended and I leaned back with a sigh, feeling awful, but also grateful for the reprieve.

“Well, that went well,” I muttered, closing my eyes and rubbing my temples where a headache was trying to form.

“Did you really expect anything else?” Tom’s warm laughter filled the air. “It is Amy, after all. Our daughter is a wee-bit high-strung. Obviously, she gets that from you.”

“Ha ha.” I rose to my feet, heading to the kitchen. I knew it was too late for caffeine, but I kept a box of decaf coffee pods handy for late evening coffee cravings.

“Why haven’t you told her?” Tom asked.

“Told her what?” I popped the pod into the machine, placed my cup down, and hit the start button.

“About our list.”

My eyes traveled around our kitchen, still smiling as I remembered the remodel Tom had surprised me with a couple of years ago. My eyes trailed over the pale, oak panel floor, the light gray cabinets, the teal shutters over my rectangular windows, and finally on the square oak table with the black leather bench seats. Bills and half-filled forms were strewn about, along with my coffee cup from this morning. Like a magnet, my eyes were drawn to the small yellow piece of paper. The gentle whirring of the coffee machine filled my ears as I walked to the table. My finger trailed lightly down the paper for a second, my eyes going down each line written. Every line on the first page had been lightly crossed out with a blue pen. Flipping the page over, I scrolled down that page, full of similar blue lines. Only two uncrossed lines remained. One was written in Tom’s scrawling handwriting, and the very last line was written in mine…the only contribution I had made to the list.

I slowly picked up the blue pen and pulled off the cap. With deliberation, I marked through the words Go Skydiving written in Tom’s hand.

“I can’t believe it’s almost done,” Tom said. His voice was full of triumph. “What a summer it’s been.”

It truly had been. Our perfect summer adventure.

One week of summer left. One more task to go.

The rich smell of coffee tickled my nose. I turned my back on the list and walked to the machine, picking up the cup and inhaling deeply. I contemplated whether a hot bath would help calm me down.

I opened the cabinet and pulled out my vitamins, my hands automatically moving through my usual habits. My mind was elsewhere though, pondering the question I had never answered.

“That list is ours,” I said, placing the cap back on the bottle. “This summer has been ours. It’s been crazy, but it’s been magical too. Talking about it, especially to Amy…” I trailed off, unable to put into words exactly how I felt.

“Talking about it would make the magic disappear,” Tom finished for me.

My heart swelled with love. Of course he would know exactly what I was trying to say.

“She would just love knowing that it's her fault the list was created in the first place.”

I laughed out loud at that one. It was absolutely true.

Amy’s stubbornness had started early. She’d waited almost two weeks past her due date before deciding to join us and then chose “snail’s pace” for her final arrival.

Labor had been long, and my temper extremely short. In desperation, Tom had grabbed the small yellow notepad and pen lying on a table by my bed and proposed the idea of creating a list.

“A perfect summer adventure.” His warm brown eyes were heavy with tiredness, but his smile was enthusiastic. “Thirteen tasks, one for each week of summer.”

“Pretty sure this adventure we are on right now is quite enough.” I shoved my finger toward the cup of ice chips, and Tom immediately set the notebook back down and obliged. He grabbed a washcloth and gently sponged my head and neck. I sighed, knowing I was acting like a jerk.

“Come on, honey, think about fun stuff you’ve only just dreamed about. I’m picking rock climbing.” Tom laid the cloth down and picked up the notepad and moved the pen across the paper.

“Rock climbing? That sounds terrible.”

“How about we each pick six things we want to do? That’s fair.”

“What about the thirteenth one?”

He gave a giant yawn and rubbed his eyes. “I promise we’ll pick that one together…something we both want.”

I supposed I could play. Especially if it helped pass the time. “Fine. Ballroom dancing lessons.”

“Ugh, you and your Jane Austen fantasies.” Even as Tom grumbled his pen glided across the page.

“So, when exactly…” Another contraction roiled through me. I groaned and attempted to do the stupid breathing exercises my doctor told me would help. They didn’t.

“Breathe through it sweetheart.” Tom started panting with me but broke off quickly when he saw my face. He quickly fixed his attention back to the notepad. “What were you asking?”

“When exactly do you think we’re going to get to go on this grand adventure? Pretty sure our lives are getting ready to be completely tied up with other things. Crazy stunts like mountain climbing or jumping out of an airplane are not in our foreseeable future."

“Jumping out of an airplane? That sounds amazing!” Tom looked deep in thought for a moment. “I better put that down last. I’m not sure how easy that is to do, but great idea.

The heat of my glare should have set him on fire, but he was too busy writing.

“We’ll do it when we retire,” he said, looking up then. You could practically feel the enthusiasm radiating off him in waves. “No boring golden years for us. We’ll do all the responsible grown-up stuff and then jump feet-first back into the glory days of summer…just like when we were kids.”

I laughed. I couldn’t help it. I loved him so much. “Okay, Tom. When we retire.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

Promises made that night, and all these years later, promises kept. All except one. The final task was nothing I wanted to do.

A week later, I once again felt a breeze blowing against my cheeks, lifting tendrils of my hair into the air. It was a pleasant relief from the baking heat. The hum of the charter boat engine was strong and steady in my ears, mingled with the sound of the crashing waves. I kept my eyes closed, not wanting to see the passing of businesses and hotels on the shoreline as we headed into open waters. Boats and my stomach were not always the best of friends, especially for the first few minutes.

I drew in a deep breath, the salty tang of the ocean filling my nostrils. The straps of the bag I held nestled against my feet, dug into the palm of my right hand, my knuckles aching from the strain of my grip.

My daughter’s soft fingers grasped my left hand and squeezed gently. “You okay, Mom?”

My eyes automatically popped open and I turned my head towards Amy, focusing on her face instead of everything else around me.

“Yeah, I’m fine sweetheart.” I was anything but fine, but the gut instinct to reassure your child never stopped, no matter how old they got.

I studied my daughter’s familiar features carefully. It amazed me after she was born, at the number of hours I was willing to just sit and stare at her face, etching every single detail into my mind. Apparently that instinct stuck around as well.

Her dark blond hair was pulled back in a small bun at the nape of her neck. She wasn’t wearing any makeup, so the freckles that she always hated were visible against the bridge of her nose. Her brown eyes, almost the exact shade as Tom’s, met mine now. They were full of many emotions, but the one that was visible now was worry. I sighed, knowing what was coming.

“Mom,” she began cautiously. “I know this isn’t the time or place right now, but can we please talk later? We need to talk about all these crazy stunts and the fact that…”

“They’re over Amy,” I cut in gently. “All finished. No more horses. No more road trips for wine tastings. No more airplanes.” I laughed lightly at the end, trying to clear the worried expression on her face. “I’ll go back to being a boring old mom and grandma.”

It didn’t work. Her eyes continued to bore into me, the crease line between her brows firmly visible. “So why did you do all those things? Will you please tell me that?”

With an effort, I unclenched my fingers away from the straps of the bag and touched the pocket of the gray button-down shirt I had intentionally worn today, even though the stiff cotton was honestly too hot. The list was tucked safely into it, nestled against my heart. “Yes, I will. Not right now, but later I’ll explain everything.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

I blinked rapidly, fighting against the thickening tightness that threatened to choke me. I breathed again the tang of the air, and this time didn’t shy away from filling my vision with the vivid aquamarine water broken by the white foam of the wakes.

Amy’s hand stayed in mine and I leaned in closer, so my shoulder was touching hers. I couldn’t remember the last time we had sat together like this in such quiet stillness. It was peaceful and I suddenly wished with all my heart that I could freeze time and extend the peace a tiny bit longer.

Time didn’t work like that though. It refused to be stopped.

Almost in answer, the sound of the engine changed. We were slowing down now, and I knew we were drawing close to our destination.

I wasn’t ready. I would never be ready.

I clamped my eyes shut again, blocking sight, sound, and knowledge from my mind. For one last second, I let the entire summer wash over me.

The rhythmic sway of the horse underneath me as I rode down the beach, breathing in the salty sea air.

The oldies playlist, the volume much too loud. My off-key voice singing along as I drove across three states for a wine tasting at a prestigious, well-known vineyard.

My gasping breath and plummeting stomach when the harness straps had tightened against my shoulders almost to the point of pain; the open door of the plane filling my vision.

The blue pen, scratching across the paper again and again, signifying that each crazy, terrifying, challenge was completed, signifying the completion of promises to the man I loved.

Tom was with me the entire time. Every wonder seen through both our eyes, and every detail etched in perfect clarity.

In forty-four years of marriage, I had never felt closer to him than I had this summer. Our lives so intertwined and our hearts so interconnected that it was impossible to know where I ended and he began. I carried him as close as I now carried the list.

I could see it in vivid detail in my mind, the crease in the center of the yellow paper, threatening to come apart from the constant folding and unfolding. All the items, written in Tom’s scrawling hand, and the final one written in mine. The final item that I would sit down and cross off this evening.

Charter a boat. Scatter Tom’s ashes.