When I think about my mom, I don’t first think of the milestones or the holidays, though there were many special ones. I think of the mornings.
I think of the sound of her moving through the house before anyone else was awake... quiet but steady, like the rhythm that kept our family’s time. As a kid, during the school year, she would have breakfast ready for my sister and I, and we had to sit at the table each morning and eat breakfast before school. During the summers, I would wake up to her being gone to pick blackberries or find her already working in the yard.
My mom believed in the power of routine long before “morning habits” became a buzzword. She called herself a “domestic engineer,” and she approached every day with purpose.
Each morning, she made her bed, a small act of order that seemed to set the tone for her whole day. She got dressed for the day - sometimes in sweats and tennis shoes, but always ready. And she made sure I was ready, too.
Every night before bed, she’d remind me to pick out my clothes for the next day. Then, in the mornings, I’d hear her voice from down the hall: “Jennifer! Make your bed!”
At the time, I didn’t realize she was teaching me something bigger than how to keep a tidy room. She was showing me how preparation and consistency could shape a life. Those simple habits became the foundation for who I am today: someone who values doing things well and making the most of each day.
Mom also nurtured my love for learning. When I was in late elementary and junior high school, she would take my sister and I to the library so I could check out books. I can still remember the smell of the pages, the quiet calm, and how she let me linger until I found the perfect one. I was allowed to choose any book. I read all sorts of topics and tales, each one creating curiosity and a thrill for learning.
Looking back, I see now that she was planting the seeds for a lifelong love of reading. It has been something that has brought me so much joy, learning, and connection throughout my life.
One of her lessons that I’ve carried with me the longest came during my first retail job in college. She told me,
“The person in front of you is always more important than the person at the end of the phone line.”
That one sentence has stuck with me all these years, and I’ve shared it with my daughters, too.
Even though my mom couldn’t have imagined the world we live in now, with smartphones, texts, and social media, I think her wisdom is more important than ever. It’s so easy to be distracted, but she reminded me to be present… to look people in the eye… to give my full attention to whoever is standing right in front of me.
Integrity was also one of my mom’s core values. She didn’t just talk about it; she lived it. She expected honesty and hard work. We weren’t allowed to quit something we had started, and that taught us perseverance and grit.
And she was a protector. Fierce. Loyal. If someone messed with her family, she stood her ground. She could be tough on us, but she was even tougher on anyone who threatened the people she loved.
Now that she’s gone, I see her lessons everywhere. In my morning routines. In my love of books. In the way I show up for people. In the values I’ve tried to pass down to my own daughters.
My mom taught me that a good life isn’t made up of big moments. It’s built in the small, consistent acts that add up over time.
It’s in how we start our day.
In the truth we tell.
In the presence we give to the person right in front of us.
Her lessons, and her joy, are still shaping me.
Every morning, every conversation, every act of care carries her fingerprint.
I hope that the way I live, lead, and love honors her legacy.
I love you, Mom. Thank you for teaching me how to live, laugh, and lead.
