The Dash

I can’t handle serious situations, I can’t handle people getting sick, or getting hurt, or dying. I don’t take death well at all really. I guess it’s because I can really only think of four people who have passed away in my life and I was either too young to really know the people. I knew who they were and that I was related to them but I was too young to have actually known them- what they were like as a person. It’s probably also because I still feel guilty about not visiting my Grandpa Cotton on my 16th birthday when he passed away not even a month after Katherine and I decided to spend our birthday in Loudonville instead of going to visit him- since we have the same birthday. He has a special place in my heart. He always has. He’s really my dad’s sisters’ husband’s dad, but we call him Grandpa (because he was older) and Cotton (because of his bright white fluffy hair). Since we were born on his birthday he always called us his Birthday surprise twins. We were so young but loved him very much. I took advantage of my time with him and was being selfish and I regret not going to visit him one last time. It must be a combination of these two things that makes me not realize the seriousness of death and importance of spending as much time with people as I can.

When my mother told me that my Uncle Skip had cancer it didn’t really sink in with me. I knew that it was serious but didn’t consider what life would be like without him in it. I just couldn’t picture him not being there. He lived for three or four years after he was diagnosed and frankly I don’t know how he did it. He was one of the most joyful man I’ve ever met. He had a glow to him that just lit up a room. And a grin to match. He just seemed like he was genuinely happy. He loved his family and friends and was so well known for being an all around nice guy. I’m so happy he was in my life and I hope that I make as much impact on people as he had on everyone that knew him.

I can’t really say exactly what I feel about losing my Uncle Skip. I just can’t seem to put my words down on paper- so to speak. And every time I try I just get teary eyed. Typical girl right…sooo emotional. So, I remembered a poem that I read a long time ago via email. It’s sort of corny but I like it. So, here’s to Uncle Skip a man who had a very fulfilling dash and I was blessed to have him in mine. I love you Uncle Skip.


The Dash
~ 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 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 is being read
With your life’s actions to rehash
Would you be proud of the things they say
About how you spent your dash?