Life in the Dash

It was a rough weekend.

On Saturday, I went to two funerals.  I don't think I've ever done that before.  I don't think I ever want to have to do it again.

The first was for Jimmie Burke.  I knew him from the new theatre group, Purlie Productions, Jimmie being one of the chief organizers of that group.  He was very friendly and supportive to me and the entire cast of The Diary of Anne Frank when we put on that play.  I enjoyed talking with him and we shared much in common, including politics. Jimmie had been a prominent politician in Florida, where he had achieved the position of Speaker Pro Tem, the highest legislative position ever for a Florida African American.  He moved back to Waycross in retirement, and had been a tireless advocate for his community and for all of us that cared about social justice and progress, but he was also a loving father, with a large extended family.  He died as a result of domestic gun violence.  He was 68

Crystal Simpson was a dear friend whom I mostly knew through the OHC Writer's Guild.  She was a gifted writer, with a personable and heartfelt style.  She was sister to another good friend, Elizabeth Welch, someone who has meant an immeasurable amount to the Writer's Guild (serving as Chairman) and to me. They have been great friends, supportive and encouraging to me in my own endeavors.  She had heart problems, and was told eight years ago she would only live six months because of the severity of her conditions.  She defied those odds, allowing so many more people, myself included, to get to know her. Physically, her heart may have been troubled, but spiritually - I knew of no heart larger, kinder and more generous.  She has two loving sons, one of whom, Issac, is in Benjamin's grade at school.  She always had a full house, her heart and hearth open to many, with a broad and loving definition of family.  She was committed to helping troubled youth, and the Vietnam Vet organization.

I had virtually never seen Elizabeth without Crystal, and vice-versa.  They were very close, and loving and supportive of each other.  They gave each other strength and courage.  Their friendship was one of the most beautiful things I have ever seen.

Crystal was only 33.


In some ways, the funerals were very different.  At Jimmie's, my dark suit fit in perfectly with what everyone was wearing....at Crystal's, the dress was much more casual, and my suit was somewhat out of place.  Jimmie's service ran two and half hours, and included a spellbinding, emotional sermon by the Greater Mt. Zion's female pastor....Crystal's was much shorter, and the pastors were more low key, but still you could see the emotion and love.  Thee were other differences, but both showed love and support and grief.


One other commonality, expressed at each funeral,  was a poem centered on the dates set on a tombstone, or in the funeral bulletin.  It emphasized that what was important was not the date of birth or the date of death, but the dash that is in between the two dates.  That is where life happens.

It's difficult to do sometimes.  The rush and pressures of day to day existence interferes with our ability to enjoy the dash.  Our fears and resentments and little feuds sometimes prevents us from connecting with others the way we should.  Sometimes we are so consumed with some goal in the future, we forget to drink in the present around us.

I have to think long and hard as to what this means to me.  But the first step was unplugging Sunday, and spending the day with Alison and Benjamin.

The commonality of life in the dash is love.  The commonality of these two is caring and sharing, striving to make their own parts of the world a better place.

Cherish everyone.  Feud with no one.  Embrace the dash.