The Dash

I ran across this poem by Linda Ellis today.

The Dash

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 the date of her birth
And spoke of 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?

The "dash" really bothers me. Levi never got a dash. He was gone before the state would recognize him as alive. I don't have a birth certificate. I don't even have a death certificate. It's as if he never existed to anyone but me. He lived inside of me, but that doesn't count as far as the world is concerned. I hate that years from now as my great great great great whatevers go to look up their family tree, there will be absolutely no record of Levi. His birth and his death are not listed on any type of legal document. He will only be known by word of mouth. It kills me.

Today my dad called me from Levi's grave. I still haven't been able to go back. I want to, but I'm afraid it will hurt too much. He doesn't have a tombstone yet, just a plaque provided by the funeral home, so my dad went inside to ask about one. He has the information to show me, but I don't know if I want to look at it. I do. I want Levi to have a marker, but I absolutely hate this process. Shortly after Levi's death, I ran across a Bible verse that I wanted to put on his tombstone, but now I can't remember it. I didn't write it down, and now I'm kicking myself. I don't even remember the gist of it, and it upsets me greatly.

Speaking of the dash and Levi's tombstone, I don't know how to write his birthdate on it. Usually, you have the day of birth - day of death. Levi's is all the same. He was dead when he was born.