THE DASH
Another sibling in our family died . . . at the end of September.
We’re all getting older but she was the youngest . . . too young.
It’s like she slept into the arms of Jesus.
We all have a ‘beginning’ date and an ‘ending’ date.
That’s a given.
We who are conceived will die eventually.
That 'dash' between the two dates seems so insignificant.
Yet, there is so much more to each life than a short, little dash, isn’t there.
That little ‘dash’ between the beginning and ending dates seems like a microdot of a person’s life, especially if that personality is as loved and well received as my sibling.
My sibling did not live an unusual life per se, but she smiled and spread joy to all in her daily path.
She seemed content in whatever circumstances she was in.
Since she was young, she loved perching comfortably in the large backyard tree and reading a good book most of the day.
She was also the delight of any gathering.
She socialized with the best of us.
She fell in love and married a wonderful man who was several years older than she was.
Their love was enhanced by the birth of two sturdy boys.
Over the decades the family remained a strong unit because she was a very involved mom.
She made each day an adventure.
The boys grew up, married and are now raising families.
Over the past several years she was in constant care of her husband as he dealt with various ailments that come with ill health and age.
We worried about her when he died but knew that her strong bond with grand children would keep her going.
She met with her local (female) pastor weekly just because it was good for her to share challenges of her ‘single’ life after being married for decades.
She was a county clerk so was dedicated to keeping the records for her small, rural community, especially during elections.
She reached out to neighbors to make sure everyone in this small lake town was OK during the 'winter' season when few remained 'at the Lake' as she did.
Her idea of a fun vacation was going further north than she already lived and staying in a sparse cabin in the middle of nowhere.
She was use to taking care of herself.
Her such self-sufficiency may have inclined friends and family to think life floats along seamlessly for her.
Now we wonder . . .
Perhaps she forgot to get her annual check-up.
For years our phone calls, emails, text messages went unanswered for great lengths of time so we thought all was well.
Hand written notes seemed to float into her home without response.
Yet, when any of us did connect with her we’d chat at great length while her enthusiasm bubble over in conversation.
Isn’t that the way it is with many of us?
We forget to respond.
We forget to reach out.
Until . . . at that perfect moment we do connect.
So often we get so busy living our own “dash” that we forget to reach out just one more time, take just a few more moments or an extra day to extend our dash into another’s life.
We forget.
Suddenly, our dear one is given an ‘end date’.
There is nothing left to do but to remember all the split second moments each of us might have communicated or spent time with her.
Each of us has a story that will be told for a few minutes after our end-date.
What a JOY it would be to extend the "dash" in each other’s lives so that there are fewer ‘what if’ moments and more ‘what a ride’ moments.
The DASH.
There is so much more of life and living and giving and sharing and being in any of our lives than we can ever begin to see in that little DASH.
