Living Your Dash

 What an honor it was to speak at Full Circle Grief Center's Live Your Dash Luncheon! 

This fundraiser helps Full Circle provide comprehensive grief support for those in the Richmond, VA area. When Jack died, I was in too much shock to even look for or access this kind of grief support. If you are grieving, or know someone who is grieving, I'd encourage you to see whether there is a grief center in your area. They often offer individual counseling and family groups and activities. 

By just EXISTING, grief centers help acknowledge to our world that grief is a real issue that lasts well beyond the few days between a death and a funeral. 

Something really special happened after my speech last Friday. The setting was a super fancy country club, and many of the servers were young adults. After the luncheon, 5 of the servers came up to me to share how my speech impacted them. We often wonder about this next generation, but let me say, they are all right! They were on the clock, working, but they let themselves open up and be touched by my words and then took the time to share with me their impact. Wow! I am so grateful.

The theme of the luncheon was Living your Dash, and it refers to the dash on a gravestone between the birth date and the death date. 

I'be been putting too much pressure on myself lately about what I'm going to do with my dash during this  short and precious life. It's overwhelming and I feel burnt out and ineffective. 

Maybe you do too.

So today I will just try to do one small thing: be kind.

The Dash

On Thursday I drove down and back to Richmond to receive an award at Full Circle Grief Center's Living your Dash Luncheon. It was lovely, and every time I learn more about what Full Circle does to help hurting families, I am so grateful!

The concept for the luncheon was to recognize that we all have a birth date and a death date. And while the dash-- the years lived in between the two-- could vary from just a few hours to many years, WE choose what to make of the dash.

It reminded me so much of a special post about Jack when he played MacBeth in his 6th grade play.

Some days I am not so sure I'm using my dash wisely.

I've already lived 33 more years than Jack got to, and next year I'll age past my mother, who died at 46. I know my days are already numbered in God's book, and this invites me to consider what my dash looks like. Honestly, most days I am content to putz around the house, doing a little of this and that, speaking to no one, and thinking about what I want eat next.

But there is an ever-present, quiet tug pointing me beyond the mundane toward greater meaning.

What could that look like? I know I want to help others. I want to use my stories, not just the ones about Jack, but whatever stories I may have, to somehow touch others and intersect with their own. For now that means writing and speaking, sharing Rare Bird, being a real, flawed, flesh and bone example of survival, and learning how to be a better listener.

A listener of the sacred stories people bring to me through this blog and in person, a listener to the gentle tug of God that leads me outside my cozy, insular self and points me toward others, and a listener to the reassuring whisper of a son who says, "I may not be at your dinner table, but I'll be your partner in whatever you do."