The Real Measure of Success

My mother passed away in March 2003 after a long battle with Alzheimer’s disease, so I tend to think of her more this time of year.  Although she was born in Richmond Virginia, she had lived all over the world, first as the daughter of an Army chaplain, then as the wife of a career military officer.  She hadn't been back to visit Richmond in over 30 years.  

My sister Winston and brother David made plans for Mom’s funeral, including a memorial service and burial in her family’s plot in Richmond.  When it came to publishing her obituary, we were stumped.  She was born in Richmond, but had lived all over, retired to North Carolina, and had been in a nursing home in Mississippi.  Eventually, we decided to publish the obituary in Richmond, Hattiesburg Mississippi, and Fayetteville NC. 

About 30 family and friends indicated they’d attend the service.  Imagine our surprise the day of the service when almost 90 folks showed up!  Although it had been over 50 years since she lived in Richmond, most were my mom’s former neighbors, classmates, and members of her church, including her high school boyfriend and the minister who now served the church her father—my grandfather—had last served.   A nursing assistant from her nursing home in Hattiesburg had traveled all the way to Richmond to say goodbye.  Many friends from Fayetteville also attended.

I was stuck by how this is the real measure of success;  not wealth, fame, or power, but to be have touched people’s lives in a way that you are fondly remembered even after an absence of decades.  And that’s an opportunity that is presented to those of us in healthcare each and every day:  The opportunity to touch peoples’ lives in a way that you are fondly remembered decades later.  Seize that opportunity.