Once you hear the words “terminal cancer diagnosis,” it initially feels impossible to be hopeful. The word “cancer” permeates your mind, and hope for any future evaporates as the word cancer races through your thoughts, leaving you feeling paralyzed. Once we accepted that Jeff’s cancer would be part of our lives, we chose not to let cancer swallow us whole. Shortly after Jeff was diagnosed, just days before his first surgery and treatment began, we realized we could not allow the cancer diagnosis to dictate our destiny. At that moment, refusing to let the defeat of the word cancer consume us, we came up with the idea to create a bucket list. It wasn’t just a list of places to travel or things to do; our bucket list became a symbol of hope.  Our bucket list was a lifeline, a raft that we could float on while letting our minds drift away from cancer and into beautiful moments, creating meaningful memories infused with Hope. We didn’t know if we would ever complete the bucket list, but it offered our minds and hearts a place of peace and a promise of hope on the horizon. Still, that piece of paper, where we etched our bucket list of hope in a quiet, dimly lit restaurant days before Jeff’s first surgery, was more than just a list full of hopes and possible dreams; it was also a distraction from the hopelessness that cancer brought into our daily lives.

With the support of our bucket list, we transformed a three-to-six-month cancer diagnosis into three and a half years, and we cherished that precious time we gained. During those gifted years, our bucket list helped us remain hopeful as we lifted each other up when we felt the other slipping. We aggressively confronted the cancer each day, but in those brief periods between cancer treatments and surgeries when Jeff felt stable, we took out our bucket list of hope and lived life in vivid colors. He was dying, and the cancer was winning, but not while we checked off memories from our bucket list. In those moments of hopeful living, we felt invincible again, even if briefly, as we marked each item off our bucket list. It recharged our spirits and strengthened our resolve to continue our fight for more time.

This bucket list was more impactful than we imagined; we didn’t realize the power and control it restored in our lives where cancer loomed so large. The bucket list offered hope, strength, resilience, and rewards for the battle we fought relentlessly for years.  The bucket list of hope was also a distraction from cancer. Somehow, the bucket list made cancer feel less overwhelming and brought hope to the forefront. 

I thank God daily for the many gifts in my life, even though it has also been filled with immense heartache and pain. I believe there is hope and beauty in any situation, even the most tragic and painful ones. If we look past the cancer and the pain and replace heartache and grief with hope, healing, and gratitude, then, in the end, we can look back on all the blessings, weaving happiness through the grief.