Make your "dash" count!

From My Perspective

By Toni Walker

Editor

news@steelcountrybee.com

There is a lot to be said about this life we live. Many people would say that we were all born simply to pay taxes and die. I have a different perspective on that, and it has been forged from a lifetime of love, and of loss.

As a newspaper editor, I deal with obituaries on a weekly basis. I believe there has only been one or two weeks in my year and half at The Bee that we did not have any obituaries. I have also loved and lost my unfair share of loved ones, as well. From grandparents to parents, and from children to friends, I have been associated with many funerals. Two things that people always seem to focus on when discussing the death of someone is the date of birth, and the date of death.

Birth and death. Those two dates seem so concrete and definitive. And so opposite. The first, so vibrant, and full of color. Endless possibilities seem to be etched in that first number. The second, hard and cold, not unlike the stone it is engraved on. You live, and you die. That is it.

I have learned, however, that, at least in my opinion, it is what comes between the two numbers that means the most. One little mark, a dash, can say so much about the person tied to the dates it separates. And, honestly, it does not matter how many days, months, or years are between the two dates. Let me explain.

If you have followed my column for any time at all, you know that I have a son who passed away after 18 hours with us. Now, although it is true that he physically did not get to do much during those hours, he taught me a lot during that time. He taught me to never give up, and to fight for what you believe in. He also taught me that family means the world, and you fight for your family.

On the other end of that spectrum, the time between the two dates on my daddy’s stone is much longer, and his dash still holds a wealth of knowledge, memories, and lessons learned as I look back on my time with him. There are others I know whose dashes do not hold as much for me. This may not be because the person was an old hag who hated people. It could possibly be simply I did not know them as well. On the flip side, it could also be because my memories of or with that person may not be the best.

The fact of the matter is this: the dash stands for something. It has meaning. If you look at different stones, you will see one thing they all have in common: the dashes are the same size. Yet, some are fuller than others, in the memories they left behind, and the lessons they taught. I want my dash to count. I want people to see my dash, and have a full heart and full memories of my time with them, and of me personally.

So, I say to you, my friends who read this column each week: work to make your dash count. Make memories, take the cruise, or attend the sold-out, once in a lifetime show. Whatever you dream to do, do it. Don’t leave your “bucket list” full. Turn that thing up, pour it out, and make your dash count!