Ron Roel

You’re probably familiar with the notion of a bucket list: Things we want to see, experiences we want to check off before we “kick the bucket.” Maybe the Great Wall of China. Skydive. Run the marathon. Do something big, something personally significant.

I have a few items on my list—a Trans Canada Rail trip to the Rockies; a wildlife tour in Costa Rica. But mainly, I’m working on a different kind of list. I call it my “unbucket list.” Instead of focusing on particular things, destinations or achievements, my unbucket list is about people--reconnecting with a range of people from across my life. Old friends. College roommates. Former work colleagues. People I once shared a chapter with—long or short—even if that chapter ended decades ago.

I don’t have great expectations. This isn’t about reviving old friendships or repairing old wounds. It’s more like running into someone at a reunion: “Hey, how are you? What’s life been like? Any surprises? And what’s life like for you now, going forward?”

Some of these connections are tender. In a few cases I’ve reached out to the widows of close friends I’ve lost over the years. Others are people I simply enjoyed knowing—no unresolved business, no agenda, no obligation or grand plan. Just a human moment of recognition. You mattered to me. That chapter mattered.

What draws me to this experience now is curiosity. As we move through midlife and beyond, we tend to carry static images of people—frozen snapshots of who they were the last time we really knew them. But none of us are static. We’ve changed. We’ve adapted. We’ve lost, learned, endured, and sometimes reinvented ourselves entirely. Reaching out is a way of honoring that truth.

My unbucket list was inspired, in part, by a story told to me by Ann Monroe, a wonderful friend and AARP colleague who is a relentless advocate for older people. Several years ago, while recovering from a knee injury, Ann decided to embark on what she called her “Grateful Live Tour.” She visited 10 people across the country who had made a significant difference at critical points in her life, going back to childhood. Some of them did not even remember what they did. But Ann did. And she wanted to express her genuine appreciation to them in person, sometimes decades later. Gratitude, she told me, was not just about how you felt; it’s important to express your feelings to people while they are alive, not at their funeral.

Of course, there’s a bit of risk involved in carrying out an unbucket list. Calling or writing someone out of the blue can be intrusive. Life may not be going well for them. They may not feel like sharing or reconnecting. They may not remember your connection the way you do. All of that is possible—and all of it has to be okay.

When I reach out, I name the potential awkwardness right away. Something like: “Don’t worry. Nothing bad has happened. I’m not calling for any particular reason. I just wanted to say hello.” I make it clear there’s no agenda, no expectation, no obligation. Just a human moment of recognition: You mattered to me. Our chapter mattered. An unbucket list requires acknowledgment without demands. Reaching out this way only works if there’s no pressure.

Focus on the real opportunities of this adventure. Reconnecting can remind us that our lives are bigger than our current routines. It can help us see the long arc of our own through the eyes of someone who knew us “back when.” Sometimes it affirms continuity; other times it reveals how far we’ve traveled. And sometimes, nothing much happens at all—and that’s fine.

So far, it’s been an enjoyable experience. Of course, people are surprised, but pleasantly. If we find that it’s not a good time to talk, we agree to reschedule. We catch up, share a few ups and downs. Sometimes we realize that we have more in common now than we did then. But we don’t try to do too much—and there’s no expectation of when we might—or should—reconnect.

If you’re tempted to create your own unbucket list, here are a few gentle suggestions:

  • Start small. One person. One email. One call.
  • Lead with transparency.
  • Say why you’re reaching out, and what you’re not expecting.
  • Hold curiosity, not conclusions.
  • Let people tell you who they are now. Accept every response gracefully—including silence.
  • Treat the connection as a gift, not a transaction.

A bucket list is about experiences we hope to have someday. An unbucket list is about continuing to honor the experiences—and people—we’ve already had, while we still can.

For me, this feels like a meaningful way to remain engaged with life in my later years: open, curious, and connected—without trying to freeze time or relive nostalgia.

Just saying hello. And meaning it.

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