The Dash

The Dash

I read of a man who stood to speak at the funeral of a friend
He referred to the dates on his tombstone
From the beginning to the end
He noted that first came his date of birth
And spoke the following date with tears
But he said what mattered most of all
Was the dash between those years.

For the dash represents all the time
That he spent alive on earth
And now only those who loved him,
Knew what that little line was 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 please 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 and understand how other people feel.
And be less quick to anger
And show our 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 awhile.

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?

Author Unknown