Living Fully: Advice from a Hospice Social Worker
By Jessica Anne Pressler LCSW
The Gift of Perspective
As a hospice social worker for the past 18 years, I've been granted a rare window into life's most profound transitions. This privilege has taught me something invaluable: tomorrow is never guaranteed. Each sunrise is a gift, not a promise. The countless bedside conversations I've had with those facing their final days have crystallized into one unmistakable truth – our most precious resource isn't money or status, but time, and how mindfully we choose to spend it.
When you regularly witness people confronting the end of their journey, you begin to see patterns in their reflections. Rarely do I hear someone wish they had accumulated more wealth or achieved greater professional success. Instead, I hear the same wistful refrain: "I wish I had spent more time with the people I love." This perspective has fundamentally changed how I approach my own life, encouraging me to put down my phone, be truly present in conversations, and never leave important words unsaid.
The Origin of the "Bucket List"
The term "bucket list" has become so embedded in our cultural lexicon that many forget its relatively recent origin. While the concept of creating a list of experiences to have before death has existed for centuries, the specific term "bucket list" was popularized by the 2007 film of the same name, starring Jack Nicholson and Morgan Freeman. The title references the idiom "to kick the bucket," a colloquial expression for dying that dates back to the 18th century.
The film depicted two terminally ill men embarking on a journey to complete their list of things to do before they "kicked the bucket." What began as a Hollywood storyline quickly transcended entertainment, becoming a powerful metaphor that prompted millions to consider what truly matters in the limited time we have.
Creating Your Own Meaningful Bucket List
A thoughtful bucket list isn't merely about exotic vacations or adrenaline-pumping adventures. While those experiences certainly have their place, the most meaningful bucket lists I've seen from hospice patients often include simpler, more profound aspirations:
Reconciling with an estranged family member
Witnessing a grandchild's graduation
Teaching a loved one a family recipe
Returning to a place that holds special memories
Simply spending uninterrupted, quality time with loved ones
When creating your own bucket list, consider not just what would be exciting, but what would bring genuine fulfillment. What experiences would you regret missing? What relationships need nurturing? What parts of yourself remain unexpressed?
Putting Your Affairs in Order
Another crucial aspect of living fully is ensuring your affairs are in order. This isn't simply about having a will or advance directive (though those are vitally important). It's about creating peace of mind for yourself and those you love.
In my hospice work, I've seen the profound difference between families who must navigate complex financial and logistical challenges during their grief and those who can simply focus on being present and processing their emotions. Consider organizing:
Important documents and passwords
Advance healthcare directives
Funeral or memorial preferences
Letters or messages for loved ones
Distribution of meaningful possessions
Having these conversations and making these arrangements isn't morbid – it's an act of love that reduces burden on those who will one day mourn you.
The Wisdom of the Dying
The most profound teachers I've encountered in my career aren't found in lecture halls, but in hospice rooms. Their insights come not from textbooks, but from the clarity that emerges when life's distractions fall away.
Steve Jobs, who faced his own mortality with pancreatic cancer, captured this wisdom in his famous Stanford commencement address: "Remembering that I'll be dead soon is the most important tool I've ever encountered to help me make the big choices in life. Almost everything – all external expectations, all pride, all fear of embarrassment or failure – these things just fall away in the face of death, leaving only what is truly important."
The spouses, children, and friends left behind frequently share similar reflections. "I wish we had taken that trip we always talked about." "I wish I had told him how much his strength meant to me." "I wish we had spent less time arguing about small things." The regrets rarely center on career achievements or material acquisitions.
Time: The Ultimate Currency
Perhaps the most consistent lesson from those nearing life's end is that we consistently overestimate how much time we have. We postpone joy, connection, and meaning, believing there will always be "someday" available to us. We delay pursuing our deepest aspirations, convinced that the timing isn't quite right.
One widow I worked with shared that she and her husband had meticulously saved for a retirement filled with travel and adventure – a retirement he didn't live to see. "We were so careful with our money," she told me, "but we should have been more careful with our time."
The Practice of Presence
Living fully isn't about frantically checking items off a list or constantly seeking new experiences. Often, it's about deepening into the present moment – truly tasting your food, listening completely to loved ones without planning your response, feeling the warmth of the sun on your face without immediately reaching for your phone to document it.
In hospice care, I've observed that those who face death with the greatest peace are often those who mastered the art of presence during their lives. They weren't necessarily the ones who accomplished the most, but those who showed up completely for their experiences, both extraordinary and mundane.
A Call to Conscious Living
Today, I invite you to consider: If your time were suddenly limited, what would take on greater importance? What conversations would you prioritize? What experiences would you no longer postpone?
The profound gift of hospice work is the reminder that we are all, in fact, terminal – we just don't all know our expiration dates. This isn't cause for despair, but for celebration and intentionality. When we embrace our mortality, we paradoxically become more alive.
Put down your phone. Tell someone you love them. Feel the cool water as you wash your hands. Listen to the birds outside your window. Start that project that ignites your soul. Resolve that conflict you've been avoiding. These moments are your life, happening now.
Tomorrow isn't promised, but today is here, waiting to be fully lived.
