Recently, my step grandmother (I know, how often do people get to write those words) passed away. My mom didn't tell me or the sis's (?) and went to the funeral with just Dad, my aunts and uncle. Aunt N told me that the priest gave a beautiful, very personal homily about how wonderfully she lived the dash.
I was born in 1971. So someday for me (hopefully not for a long time) it will be 1971-(year). It makes you think.
How do you live your dash?