Don't Forget Me

So Memorial Day happened a seemingly long time ago, and yet I never got around to posting about it.  I'm giving myself a lot of grace these days and letting myself catch up on posts I wanted to write even if the moment is long gone.

This year the Matthews family invited us to partake in their yearly tradition which is to place a dozen roses on the headstones of veterans.  We Longmires have never invested or engaged in "remembering" quite like that before and were truly blessed with the opportunity to connect more fully this year to the purpose of the holiday.

The Matthews bought us all donuts and we met at the Cemetery in Mesa.  It has been a while since I have found myself in a cemetery and its equal parts strange, beautiful, and fascinating.  Both of the girls were very nervous because lets face it, their sum total of cemetery experience is equivalent to Scooby Doo on Haunted Hill.  Its a shame how media and kids shows make cemeteries out to be so scary.  They aren't, and as a matter of fact, as we walked through and read the names of people gone before, was so peaceful and purposeful.  We searched for any and all who had served our country and once all of our flowers were placed just walked by each headstone and read the names.

Evie found a little girl that had passed, that was hard. For her and her Daddy.  I was amazed at the married couples who rested next to each other after a lifetime of oneness.  This life is short and long, its worth living, but it doesn't last forever.

All in all though, I was most drawn to the dates on the headstones.  Every single one had dates carved into the stone.  A born year, a dash, and an end year.  Here in this hallowed ground lie people who lived a lifetime of experiences all put into a dash, and perhaps a few key words.  It made me mindful.

A friend of mine talks constantly about "living her dash."  Its a cute anecdote, but not one I have ever given much thought to, until this Memorial Day. People are remembered not for their years, but for their dash.  It might be short, even a day, or long, like 107 years, but its the thing that gives that person a space in the history books.  Their dash.

I am eternally grateful for the men and women who used their dash to fight for freedom that my children and I now enjoy. The significance of that choice is not lost on me.  I respect it and am humbled by it.

I am determined to live my dash well, and one day when my dates are set, I hope my dash will be worth remembering.  So if I can reach through the interwebs and tell you anything its this. You are living the dash that will sit in history.  Your highs and lows, your good and bad, all of it will make up that single line.  Stay present, be kind, resolve conflict, build relationships, find Jesus, love your spouse, and go boldly forward.  Your dash is one worth living.