Giving myself permission for fun!
This week has been one for the bucket list!! I’ve lived in Victoria for 25 years and have never been up to the Sooke potholes. Having grown up in the land of lakes, rivers and beaches, the idea of swimming in city lakes disgusts me. But THIS!! this is awesome!
Two little girls were swimming by us when one loudly proclaimed “she must have had lice. I’ve heard some people have to shave their heads when they have lice.” I looked over and Aidan and said “man, I wish I had lice!!”
It’s funny, you know… I have never been much of a spontaneous person. I always overthink things, to the point of me denying myself and my family the opportunity to do things because it will cost too much, take too much time or effort, be too difficult to maneuver…. Case in point, potholes. But today? Today I learned that I can be in the car dealership until 2, get to the potholes, hike the hike, swim the swim, enjoy the time, and be home for dinner by 7. You know what that also means? That means I can go to Saltspring for a day trip. I can spend an entire day reading a book. It means I can leave home without packing a cooler. It means I can go on a flight with my cousin around Victoria and still have lunch at Maria’s in Sidney. It doesn’t mean I HAVE to do these things. But it means I can. I do not have to limit myself to what is safe, what is known, what is expected, what is normal.
Cancer has given me the permission to actually make a bucket list. Without inhibition. Without fear. And it means I can actually approach that bucket list and tick some things off. I’ve never actually even written a bucket list before. I always felt it a morbid thought. But I have one now. It includes Vegas. And NASCAR. And Tofino. And Greece. And paint night. (Speaking of which – if any of my friends want to invite me to paint night I’m all in!!!). It means that even if I’m doing chemo I can make plans, and if I have to back out last minute that’s ok. But I don’t have to worry so much about every single detail. My kids will survive. Heck, they might even have fun. And so will I.
On that note – go get a mammogram.