What we leave behind

I recently attended a memorial service for a courageous woman and wrote about it here.
Copies of this poem, author unknown, were given to those in attendance.

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 the date of his birth
And spoke of the following date with tears,
But he said what matters most of all
Was the dash between those years.

For that dash represents all the time
That he spent alive on Earth
And now only those who loved him
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 the 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 is 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...
Remember that this special clash
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?