DASH

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. (You could be at "dash mid-range.")

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 you'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 spend your dash?

To the world you may be one person,
But to one person you may be the world!

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