The Most Important Thing

"What is the most important thing you have done in your life?"

I read that question, and the response given by the person to whom it was asked, in an old obituary I read this morning. The obituary was for Verna Hobson, written by her son, Archie Hobson, a writer for the Santiago Times. Verna Hobson died on April 13, 2004. After having read her obituary, I wish I had known her. She was 81 years old when she died. If you're interested in reading what I read, and what moved me, you'll have to go to this page and scroll down to find the obit.

Aside from finding the life and times of Ms. Hobson interesting, I found terrifying that question posed to her by one of her doctors, what is the most important thing you have done in your life? She responded without hesitatation: “take care of my grandchildren.” I do not have an answer that comes to mind so quickly... That simple question should be easy to answer, but it is not. Is that because I have too many things from which to choose? I think not. It is just the opposite. The real question becomes: "have you ever done anything important in your life?" That, I have. I have loved good people, and that's important, but it somehow does not seem enough. It is easy to love good people. Has that made a difference? Yes, it has I suppose, but is that enough? How can we know whether what we have done is enough? Is there any real measure of "enough?"

Whether it is enough or not, I think the most important thing I have done in my life is to commit to love and care for my wife my entire life. But that is easy to do; she is easy to love. I'm the one who's hard to love. It's odd, sitting here this early Sunday morning, that it seems to me that the important things I have done, few though they are, involve people and caring for them. Forming my company hasn't been important. Employing people hasn't been important. Building or buying a house hasn't been important. All of them are tangentially so, but none seems to be inherently important; they are important only to the extent that they support those things that really matter.

Those thoughts brought me to another question, again about value. I have on so many occasions wished I had lots of money...I want to be independently wealthy or, at least, independently solvent. Would that bring happiness? Not likely. It's easy to recognize, though, as I sit here giving dedicated thought to the topic, that what it would give me is peace of mind that I could provide for the people I love. So, it's not the money, it's what it could do for people. Obviously. But is it always so obvious? I think I could be equally happy and content to know that my wife and I have just enough to get by comfortably on a little plot of land in the woods, with room for a garden and a place to raise the chickens and goats. No huge sum of money required, just an opportunity to be together, focus our attention on living, and turn our attention away from the things that drag us down.

What is the most important thing I have ever done? Maybe I am doing it. Maybe thinking about how to settle into a long and happy life of retirement with my wife is the most important thing I can do, to make both our lives happier.