For the first time, in a long time, I’m amped about the upcoming year. I have travel plans, I have personal development goals, and I truly believed I’m completing the process of healing. Time will tell.

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I read a poem that really resonated with me … The Dash by Linda Ellis.

The Dash
by Linda Ellis

I read of a man who stood to speak 
at the funeral of a friend.
He referred to the dates on the tombstone 
from the beginning…to the end.  

He noted that first came the 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 that dash represents all the time 
that they spent alive on earth. 
And now only those who loved them 
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?

Every year I age towards 49, the more anxious I get. You see, my mother died of gastric cancer at the age of 49 years. It was too young back then, and even more so, now that her son is almost there. The entire experience was cruel. Of the four of us, she was the one who ate nutritiously, exercised, didn’t swear, showed compassion, and so much more than the rest.

So of this family that was “misbehaving”, why, I am WHY on God’s green fucking planet was she taken! Was she made into a martyr to inspire Dad, Charrina, and I to do better? The more I think on it, the more angry I get. I do myself a favor, by not dwelling on it.

It does make me wonder will I live to 49 years old? Will I be undone by then? Maybe sooner, but hopefully later! Much later, if you’re asking me. THIS is my main motivation to explore, to travel, to immerse myself fully into EACH experience.

To fully exploit THE DASH.

I like to quip, that “some day” doesn’t appear as a day of the week on a calendar. Especially when someone utters, “Oh, I’ll do that some day.” I’ll push them to put an actual date on that project / task / experience.

With this type of keep digging philosophy of life, my hope is that I’ll be proud of what I did with my dash. My question to all y’all, will you? And if it the answer’s no, what are you doing to change that?