Portobelloman

By portobelloman

Mary Maclean Robertson 1934-2007

We laid to rest my mother-in-law today, the service was conducted by representative of The Humanist Society of Scotland, during the service he read this poem.

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 her 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?



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