As I sat at a red light the other day, I read a bumper sticker on the fender in front of me. It said, “He Who Dies With The Most Toys Wins!” I admit my initial reaction was one of envy as I looked at the driver’s Escalade with tinted windows while I idled a bit loudly in my 11-year-old Toyota. The vehicle alone gave the impression that this person was successful, financially secure and didn’t have to sell household items on eBay to keep the electricity turned on.
Long after the light turned green and the Escalade vanished from sight, that bumper sticker stayed on my mind. Having “the most toys” certainly fits the kind of society we live in. According to company reports, luxury cars such as Lamborghini, Bentley and Rolls-Royce achieved record sales in recent years despite the rising gas prices and a slump in car sales in general.
In 2008, Apple announced that its sales of iPods, computers and iPhones were the best in the company’s history. Still, despite the popularity of luxury “toys,” our society has to wonder what truly defines success. What makes each one of us a winner? If it is having the most toys and the sales of those toys are booming, why is there also a rise in the number of divorces and children affected? Also in 2008, Divorce Online indicated there was an 80 percent increase in the number of divorce packages sold.
I began to reflect on my own life journey, and what mattered most to me, not one single material possession came to mind. Instead, I thought of the security I had always known with two loving parents who always gave me a soft place to fall. I thought of my sister who fought with me like cats in an alley when we were young, but now is my best friend and mentor as we mother our children together. My greatest accomplishment had nothing to do with what I bought or how much I earned. It was having two beautiful daughters who always gave me a reason to keep on going even in the darkest of moments; the ones who give me cards telling me I am their hero. They give me hugs that are the trophy of my success. I am the strong caring person I am today because of the loving upbringing I had from family.
One thing is certain. Every one of us will face our last day on this planet: The ones driving Escalades, the ones in the food stamp lines, the wealthy sports stars and the ones sitting in a maximum-security prison cell. At the end of it all, who we became will be summed up in a few short paragraphs in an obituary. That newspaper clipping won’t list the BlackBerry you left behind or the Lexus that now has no owner. It won’t mention your impressive bank balance or the fact that you were the proud owner of a plasma TV. That last summary of your life will list the family who loved you, the church you went to, the causes you fought for and the circle of love you created as your legacy.
Some will have long tributes showing strong family ties and how blessed their lives were with generations of love and devotion…yet some will barely have two sentences stating no specific survivors. No parents who held them up no matter what, no children who looked up to them for the love they gave. No brothers and sisters who will forever hold on to memories of racing to the ice cream truck together with two quarters in their hands or sharing corny jokes to which only they get the punch line. I wrote my mother’s obituary when she passed away last April, and though it was probably the hardest things I have ever done, it was healing to write that tribute to her life because it was so rich with love and family. As I reflected on these things I realized that it is the love we have for one another that will ultimately defy those issues of race, cultural diversity and ethnic heritage, not the number of toys we might own.
I think of that man with the Escalade to this day and can’t help but feel a bit sad for the statement he displays on his rear fender. I wouldn’t want to be the person that one day has to write his obituary, but I would like to write a new bumper sticker for him: “He Who Dies With The With The Most Toys Should Have Had A Yard Sale.”