How Will You Spend Your Dash?



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 what the author has to say.

I always marvel at how some of you write such heart warming poems. You are truly talented and I enjoy poetry immensely as it feels like it comes from the heart.

Last week on the BYOC, there was a question asking what would be your last meal if you were on death row. I think a few people might have been wigged out at the thought of death, which made me remember a poem which particularly touches me. A few years ago, a manager where I worked dropped dead of a heart attack just before his 44th birthday. He was playing old-timers hockey and poof, he dropped dead. At his funeral, they read this poem:

                                                                   

The Dash Poem

"—"
by Linda Ellis ©

I read of a man who stood to speak
at the funeral of a friend.

He referred to the dates on her tombstone

from the beginning...to the end.

He noted that first came the date of her birth

and spoke of the following date with tears,

but he said what mattered most of all

was the dash between those years.

For that dash represents all the time

that she spent alive on earth…

and now only those who loved her

know what that little line is worth.

For it matters not, how much we own;

the cars…the house…the cash.

What matters is how we live and love

and how we spend our dash.

So think about this long and hard…

are there things you’d like to change?

For you never know how much time is left.

That can still be rearranged.

If we could just slow down enough

to consider what’s true and real,

and always try to understand

the way other people feel.

And be less quick to anger,

and show appreciation more

and love the people in our lives

like we’ve never loved before.

If we treat each other with respect,

and more often wear a smile…

remembering that this special dash

might only last a little while.

So, when your eulogy’s being read

with your life’s actions to rehash...

would you be proud of the things they say

about how you spent your dash?

There have been many funerals since that time. It seems I am now at the age where funerals outnumber the weddings or celebrations. But at each one, I think about the dash. There is usually something quite profound in the eulogy, a remembrance, an anecdote, a story. Something that makes us remember the good that was their life. I remember at the funeral of my MIL, 10 years ago, her son told about how "mom" could bake. Her date squares were infamous. As her son mentioned a few of his favorite foods, many of us mumbled a treat we particularly remembered. You could hear the whispers throughout the church. It was part of her dash.

In talking about the Dash poem, the author wrote: Living a dash that you can be proud of doesn't mean trying to be perfect and changing yourself to fit the mold of what people tend to think of as a "good" person. To me, it means doing the best you can every day to live a life which may someday allow you to leave behind a legacy of kindness, love and laughter. 

Sometimes I forget my dash. Other times I think about how I should do more to be kind, to be loving and to have laughter in my life. I'm still working on my dash. I'll post more in the coming days as I have some thinking to do about my dash.

Just throwing this out there, but how's your dash doing?

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