- Thirteen years after their beloved father died in a car crash, Laura Carney’s brother found his handwritten bucket list
- Out of the 60 goals, he’d only managed to check off five
- So Laura decided to complete the list to celebrate her father’s life – changing hers in the process
- Here Laura Carney, 45, shares her inspiring story of love, bravery, determination (and vomiting!)
I stared curiously at the brown, leather pouch my brother had handed me.
“It was Dad’s,” David explained.
It was 2016, and my husband, Steven and I were visiting David’s new place.
He’d recently rediscovered some of our father, Michael’s possessions as he was unpacking.
Inside the pouch was some tattered paper with Dad’s handwriting on it. It’d been written the year I was born – 1978.
Beneath the title: Things I would like to do in my lifetime, was a list of 60 goals.
Read more: I walked across Oz with my camels… and it led to love!

My heart sank when I saw he’d only checked off five.
Dad had died in a car crash 13 years earlier at the age of 54. He’d been hit by a distracted driver who’d ran a red light while talking on their phone.
I was 25 then and had never fully processed his death. I missed his outrageous sense of humour and curiosity for life.
The bucket list sparked an idea
Now, reading his list – which included simple tasks such as ‘grow a watermelon’ to more lofty goals like ‘correspond with the Pope’ – reminded me of the fun-loving man Dad was.
I knew immediately what I had to do.
“You have to finish his list,” Steven said, as though reading my mind. “This is your book.”
I worked as a freelance writer and had always wanted to write a book about Dad.
Completing his bucket list seemed like the perfect way to celebrate his life.
At 38, society expected me to settle down. Instead, I planned to leap into the great unknown.
I’m really doing this, I decided.

Dad was with me
The first of Dad’s goals I tackled was to ‘run 10 miles straight’.
A few kilometres into the 16km course, my legs were heavy and I was exhausted.
I’m going to fail, I thought.
Then a voice said: Your life, your choices.
It felt like Dad was with me, reminding me it’d been my decision to do this.
This pushed me to keep going.
When I finished, I felt elated.
Attagirl! I thought, proudly.
As I continued to achieve Dad’s goals, some made me doubt myself, especially scary ones like skydiving.
But it often felt like Dad was egging me on.
Standing at the plane’s open door with my tandem skydiving instructor, I was petrified.
Let go, the voice urged.
As I leapt into the sky, I felt an incredible sense of freedom… even when I vomited mid-air! I was sure Dad was cackling with laughter when that happened!
“I survived!” I cried afterwards, exhilarated.

Completing Dad’s mission to ‘surf in the Pacific’ wasn’t easy.
After taking a lesson, I travelled to California, determined to catch my first wave.
Almost 20 attempts later, I wiped out so hard I struggled to find the surface.
It was terrifying, but I couldn’t give up.
Feeling brave
Back on the board, legs wobbling, I successfully surfed the next wave… for about two seconds. It wasn’t much but was such a thrill!
The more of Dad’s goals I checked off, the more courageous and carefree I felt.
I had to ‘ride a horse fast’ and ‘go sailing alone’ – I even grew a watermelon in a pot plant in our apartment!
Steven, who’d met me before Dad’s death, noticed my confidence boost.
“The person I’d always seen in you is coming out again,” he said. “You’re shedding the layers of grief and fear.”
In 2020, Covid delayed some of my plans but I focused on Dad’s items I could do at home, like ‘plant an apple tree’.
Next, I tackled some of the trickier tasks I’d been putting off, like corresponding with the Pope!
My friend put me in touch with a priest who’d been in contact with his Holiness Pope Francis.
He encouraged me to send a letter to the Vatican.
So, I wrote to Pope Francis about my thoughts on phone addiction and how it’s causing car crashes, like the one that killed Dad.

Six weeks later, I received a letter from the Pope’s assessor.
His Holiness Pope Francis wishes me to thank you for your thoughtful letter, it read, explaining that the Pope had prayed for the eternal rest of my father.
I couldn’t believe I’d done it!
Now for the most challenging
The most challenging of Dad’s goals was to ‘drive a Corvette’.
I’d felt anxious behind the wheel ever since Dad’s death and only drove when I had to.
But when a man named Ryan heard about my journey on Instagram and offered me his Corvette to take for a spin, I couldn’t say no.
I was panicking as I got into the driver’s seat, then I took a moment to look around.
Dad would’ve loved this, I realised, pressing on the accelerator.
With that, I felt completely safe driving for the first time in 19 years.

The final item to check off was to ‘record five songs’.
Dad loved music, so I picked songs I had fond memories of him singing to me when I was little.
I was nervous. I hadn’t sung publicly since I was a kid, but I was also excited.
My cousin, Leif, a musician, helped me record the first four in his studio.
Then, on December 27, 2022, I recorded the last song at home on our computer.
My emotions were running high as I sang the lyrics to Good Night by The Beatles – the tune Dad had crooned as he tucked me into bed.
“Good night, sleep tight,” I sang. “Dream sweet dreams for me.”

Finding peace
After six long years of completing Dad’s bucket list, I felt a great sense of peace.
“It’s done,” I told Steven, collapsing into his arms with relief.
“I’m so proud of you,” he replied.
When I started this journey, I wanted to honour my dad and write my book, My Father’s List.
But along the way, I discovered I needed to do it for myself too, so I could let go of my grief.
Dad always knew how to have fun and make the most of life.
And now, thanks to him, I’ve learnt to do the same.
My Father’s List: How Living My Dad’s Dreams Set Me Free, by Laura Carney is out now.
For more, go to: bylauracarney.com