A Mom's Moment

"People Matter Most"

by Grace Fox
Women Alive Online Magazine, May 2007

The scene will forever be etched in my heart. While the outside world raced from one activity to another, my mother-in-law, Betty, lay motionless in her bed. Nearly fourteen years of battling Parkinson's disease had reduced her body to a mere shadow of its former self and robbed her ability to communicate.

Four days prior, hospice workers had evaluated Betty's physical condition and said she had less than a week to live. Her five children were taking turns sitting at her bedside, holding her hands, stroking her forehead, and speaking words of encouragement.

One morning I watched as my husband shared fond memories with his mom. The family had enjoyed a waterfront home, so most stories revolved around boating and beach-related activities. One experience in particular stood out.

When Gene was in ninth grade, he'd decided to build a 16-foot sailboat. He began work in the carport and labored diligently for months. When winter rolled in and outdoor temperatures dropped, however, progress ground to a halt.

Betty rushed to the rescue. "Don't quit," she said. "Bring your boat into the living room. It's warm in the house. You can finish your project there." And so, with his mother's blessing, Gene hauled the sailboat, plywood, nails, varnish, and sawhorse into the house and plunked everything in the middle of the carpet-covered floor. Several weeks later, the finished boat was carried through the sliding glass doors and launched on its maiden voyage.

Tears filled Gene's eyes as he recalled that experience. Leaning close to Betty's face, he said, "Not many women would let their kids build a boat in their living room. Thanks, Mom, for being the exception. You taught me to believe that people are more important than things."

The scene challenged me to think about the messages we communicate to our kids. What's our initial response when they return home from a sports activity and throw their duffel bags and dirty socks in the entryway? How do we react when they spill juice on the couch, or on the kitchen floor moments after we washed it? What are the first words we speak upon hearing that they've had a fender-bender with the family car?

I remember the day my youngest daughter, Kim, accidentally broke a wee cup belonging to a glass tea set I'd received as a little girl. "I'm so sorry, Mommy," she cried. "I'm really, really sorry!"

I tried to comfort her but she refused to be consoled. Puzzled by her over-reaction, I asked why an obvious accident upset her so much. Her answer filled me with remorse: "Because you said you could never replace these teacups if they broke."

I hugged Kim and reassured her that I valued her far more than my teacups. And I purposed in my heart to teach my kids that, while things are nice, people matter more.

I pray you'll share my purpose. Imagine the joy of hearing our kids someday say, "Thanks, Mom, for teaching me that people matter more than things."