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.