Don’t Let Later Become Never

After last week’s column about creating my “death book,” many of you wrote to say the same thing: it had been on your list for years. You had thought about it and intended to do it. You just never got around to it.

That response stayed with me because it revealed something most of us share. The things that matter do not disappear. They migrate to a category we call later. If you are like me, they may sit on a to-do list for years.

Later feels responsible. It feels practical. It allows us to believe there will always be another season, more time, more energy, and more room in the calendar to get back to the things we care about. The problem is that it becomes a habit later. Time keeps moving while the intention stays parked on the to-do list, and eventually the window closes. Not because we decided against the idea, but because we assumed there would always be more time.

As I move through what I often call the autumn of my life, I have noticed that the winters can arrive faster than we expect.

Friends begin dealing with serious health issues. Sometimes there are sudden losses no one saw coming. When that happens, I often think about the things that were probably sitting on that person’s later list. The places they meant to see, the experiences they kept putting off, and the relationships they planned to repair when things settled down.

My own death book only got finished because a deadline forced the issue. I completed the first version before a three-week Mediterranean trip and updated it again before the Antarctica expedition. Part of that is respect for my nieces. If something ever happens to me, I want the practical details organized so they are not chasing information while they are grieving. Another part comes from paying attention to the reality around me.

Over time, I have become deliberate about where I put my money and energy. I do not live extravagantly. My wardrobe comes from end-of-season sales. Much of my furniture came from Facebook Marketplace. What I spend money on are experiences. Travel, birds, and plants are the things that matter most to me. Before I left for Antarctica, I was already thinking about Africa because it will likely be the most physically demanding trip I attempt.

When I mentioned my travel plans to my physical therapist, she said she was glad I was doing it now. She sees many patients who assumed they would always have more time.

Years ago, I met with my financial advisor and told him I wanted to travel while I still could. We decided to front-load those expenses rather than delay them. His advice was simple. Travel while you are able, because the photographs and the writing can happen years later. The ability to climb into a Zodiac boat or scramble across ice is not something any of us should assume will always be waiting.

And let’s be honest. You earned that retirement account through years of hard work. You cannot take it with you. Using those funds to experience the things you once dreamed of is not irresponsible. It is the point.

But this is not really about travel. Each of us has a version of the later list. For some, it means taking the grandchildren to Disney or seeing the Grand Canyon. For others, it means learning something new, starting a project, or reaching out to someone whose relationship has drifted.

Most of us assume we will eventually get around to the things that matter.

Sometimes we do.

But sometimes it becomes never. Most of the things we say we will do later only happen when we give them a date and put them on the calendar.

Take your experiences to the grave, not unfulfilled dreams.