top of page

Bucket List for the Soul: Who I want to Become When Wrinkly and Gray

  • Writer: Mamo
    Mamo
  • May 17
  • 3 min read

The other day, my son asked what a “decade” was. Then he asked how long 100 decades would be. I am glad I won't live that long—but I hope to live well in the decades I have left.


As I imagine myself a few decades older, I recognize how easy it might become to slip into behaviors I wouldn’t choose today. From what I observe in others, age and experience can bring health issues that make us grumpier, disappointments can make us sadder or meaner, and busyness can dull our memories. And as my husband often says to our kids, “If you play stupid games, you'll win stupid prizes.” It’s his way of explaining the idea behind “you reap what you sow.” For example, if I speak unkindly to someone, they may come to expect that’s just how I am rather than just a bad moment. In my sons’ world, this plays out when one brother steals Legos—the “prize” being that the other never feels his little treasures are safe again. I certainly don't want to win stupid prizes if I can help it.


So here’s my personal bucket list—not of adventures or accomplishments, but of the kind of character I hope to hold onto or grow into when I’m wrinkly and gray, if I reach that point. And even better if my kids can learn these from me too.


  1. I want to handle words with care.

If someone shares something in confidence, I want to honor that trust. I want my words to be kind and helpful—spoken thoughtfully, not carelessly.


  1. I want to be helpful in the ways people truly need.

Not just the help I think they need. I don’t want selfishness to lead the way. I want to stay observant, get out of my seat, and step in where I’m needed, even when it may be inconvenient for me.


  1. I want to listen well and love deeply.

    I hope I always value my relationships with family and friends. I want to have a close relationship with my sons and a complete-each-other's sentences kind of relationship with my husband. I’d love to have at least one soul friend: someone I can say absolutely anything to. I'm so thankful I have that now and I want it later too! I want to surprise people with love. To love like Jesus did. To be known as someone who lives to love and serve—not because I’m trying to prove something, but because that’s just who I’ve become.


  1. I want to say sorry—and mean it.

Quickly. Without a “but.” Without needing to defend myself. I want to be able to take responsibility for the wrong I've done and really care about who I've hurt. (Working hard on teaching this one to my sons!)


  1. I want to accept my limitations. 

My body will change. It's how God designed it. He didn't promise an easy life or a perfect body, but He is right by my side. I want to accept my limitations that arise with grace, and keep running the race God has given me, even when my body can’t do what it used to.


  1. I want to resist comparison.

Whether it’s comparing myself to others or to a younger version of me, I know letting that mindset win will rob me of peace and joy. 


  1. I want to copy the right things.

Lately, I’ve been talking to my boys about which behaviors are worth copying in others and which are not. Hopefully, I’ll surround myself with wise, loving people worth imitating.


The truth is, I can start practicing all of these and more now. The more I observe, reflect, and stay open to change, the closer I get to being the person I want to become. To thriving. I’ll still mess up—a lot—but what matters most is how I respond when I do. I’ll need Jesus. And I'll need grace, from others and from myself.


I don’t know what trials or blessings the rest of my life holds. But I do know Who holds me through it all—and He’s someone I can depend on. 

 
 
 

Recent Posts

See All
Late Night Conversations

We can't protect them forever. Statistics show that kids are being exposed to things we wouldn't choose—whether visual,...

 
 
 
Pants

Recently, our 8-year-old son, M, refused to go to school because he said none of his pants fit. This logistical hiccup eventually...

 
 
 

Comments


©2020 by Manna for 2. Proudly created with Wix.com

bottom of page