This morning I made a presentation titled ‘Understanding Resilience’ for a bunch of young doctors. While going over my slides for the last time just before leaving home, I made a few minor changes.
The very first slide had my name on it with the prefix ‘Dr’. I deleted that. It wasn’t important. I was going to speak to them as a fellow human being about being human. I remember the time when it meant the world to me to have that title. I completely identified with it. Now, it doesn’t matter.
After I put Saagar’s picture on a slide I went on to add his date of birth and date of death. Between the two dates, I inserted a dash. In that moment I realised – this is where life happens. In that little dash.
Updated with the help of a friend within minutes of posting the above:
The Dash by Linda Ellis copyright 1996 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?