“This is the international wing.” the imitated toddler voice would crack towards the end. My mom loved to tell this story. As often as she could, she would remind me of the time she dropped me off with the sweet old ladies at the Catholic church’s child center so she could sing in the choir for Easter Service. Whenever she told this story, she could never remember if I was 3 or if I was 4. I’m not sure it mattered either way. But she would tell this story of coming back to get me and me not wanting to leave without showcasing my Lego creation at an unbelievably young age. No instructions. No teachers telling me what pieces went where. Not even a set Lego package. Just a huge box full of random Legos and her son, she’d beam, and his creation; an airport with a helipad and an international wing. I had never even been to an airport, but I apparently told her I felt like it needed one. “So, you created one.” She’d say to conclude the story.

My mom was a journalism major. Creating was ingrained in her. She worked at the Mercantile Exchange in Chicago in the 80’s selling bonds. She had to wake up everyday and create opportunities. She’d tell me this story of the international wing when I would get stuck. Stuck in life, in business, in a relationship, with a project. She’d say, “Aren’t you the same Matthew who knew, at age 3, that a large airport needs to have an international wing?” 

One day I came home from high school and my mom was sitting at the dining room table looking out at the backyard. I checked to see what she was looking at but didn’t see anything out of the ordinary. I really needed to figure out my internship for next year. I had taken all the CAD classes at Dundee-Crown High School and was disappointed there were no architecture firms looking for interns. 

Even though I hadn’t seen my mom like this before, I pursued my own agenda. “Mom. ‘sup. Still no news on the internships. This totally sucks. I don’t know what to do.”

She didn’t change her gaze, but slowly said, “Where’s your international wing, baby?” She paused so I could remind myself of the International Wing Story without her telling the whole story. 

Eye roll. “Uh… Mom. What does that have to do with this? I’m not 3 anymore. Gosh. Come on, mom.” Typical teenager response. 

She asked me to come sit down at the table. She looked like she had seen a ghost. I hadn’t ever seen her like this before and didn’t know what to say. She broke the silence, “We’re creators Matthew. That’s what you need to do now. You need to create your future. If you want an architecture internship, then you need to pray really hard and then work towards creating one. God will reward your prayers and your hard work.”

I was silent for a while. 

She took my hands in hers and let a tear run down her face. 

“Mom. You’re scaring me. What’s going on?” I was beginning to get choked up.

She squeezed my hands and then moved her right hand up to her hair. She delicately and slowly removed her wig revealing a very bald head. “Well, Matthew. You may have noticed some changes in me.” 

I hadn’t seen my bald mom before. And, as probably any teenager would be, I was frozen in fear. A million thoughts. No words.

“Matthew. I got a wig today but I don’t like it. The chemo treatments are making me lose all my hair.” Her eyes had swelled up as the tears came through and her strong demeanor began to fade. She pressed on through clenched teeth, “I need you to know something, Matthew. We are not victims of our circumstances. We are creators. That’s what we are. You. Me. Your sister. Your brother. We’re creators. Now it’s time for me to create the next chapter of my life. What will the theme be? Will I be a victim? Or, will I be a winner?”

Her attitude towards her cancer never waned. She was steadfast that this trial, as she called it, would be used for God’s glory and it would help her touch people’s lives that would otherwise not be able to be reached.

That’s the attitude my mom had towards life; whatever has happened in the past or whatever you might be facing in the future, you have to think: “what are you going to create?”

Over the next few weeks, the chemo continued and my mom’s health worsened. It was a tough time around the house and I felt lost, confused, frustrated, angry. All the emotions of a 15 year old son watching his mom deteriorate physically but all the while having the most positive attitude about her future. She’d remind me of the times in her heyday of working on Michigan Avenue wearing shoulder pads and long skirts. “I had to create my future. No one was handing out golden tickets, Matthew.” 

She was insistent that I not let her cancer treatment detour my desire to become an architect and “create an international wing.” She would ask me great questions. Questions like, “If you were an architect how would you find an intern?” And, “What skills and qualities can you offer an architect?” Which was quickly followed by, “How will they know you have these qualities?”

She helped me figure out that I needed to canvas architecture firms with my resume and a personal letter about my “international wing.”

After a few weeks of canvassing, which back in 2003 meant using the dial up modem to search for architecture firms in the area and then ride my bike to their offices, I eventually got called to the internship coordinators office at Dundee-Crown High School where the lady who ran the program was sitting at her desk with a well dressed man who wore the biggest glasses I’d ever seen. They had my resume and letter. 

She was smiling from ear to ear. “Matt. I see your enterprising efforts have paid off. And, I bet your mother will be very proud of your entrepreneurial efforts.” She introduced me to the architect and I began my internship that afternoon.

You’re damn right my mom was proud of me. I came home from my internship and the school must have called her (I didn’t have a cell phone…) “Matthew! I heard you finally built your international wing today. That’s my son!”

Have you ever had someone in your life, maybe your parents, maybe your best friend, maybe your spouse, who can so carefully and deliberately put their own situation aside to help you see your situation from another perspective? A perspective full of potential which is so painfully obvious to them but they take the time to speak that potential into your life? 

That was my mom. An amazing woman who loved to see others succeed. A Trailblazer. A two-time cancer survivor who, other than her physical appearance, you’d never know she was battling anything. She’d ask you about you, what are you looking forward to, what are you interested in, what are you dealing with, how can she pray for you. 

My mom passed away on April 7, 2018. 6 weeks later, I started Strategic Voyages. That’s what my mom would have wanted; to see her son continue to create his international wing.

That’s why the theme of creation is one of Strategic Voyages’ core values. We’re all creators here.

Today, as the founder of Strategic Voyages Business Consultants, my main responsibility is to create. Create opportunities. Create business. Create policies and procedures. Create value. Sometimes this looks like opportunities for my team to learn, sometimes it’s creating business opportunities for clients, and other times it’s creating marketing campaigns for bankers.

So, what have you created recently? Are you creating opportunities? Are you creating positivity? Are you creating creators?

When you find yourself stuck on something, think about what you can create from it. What should be there that isn’t? What are you going to create?