This month, we had plans. Thoughtful, well-structured, editorial-calendar-approved plans. A whole series devoted to mothers and the many forms they take—wise, complicated, hilarious, occasionally terrifying. But somewhere between day jobs, deadlines, and the general state of the world (gestures broadly at everything), those plans… quietly unraveled.
So instead, I did what any reasonable person would do: I dropped into the group chat and said, “Give me three things you learned from your ‘mom person’.” No framework, no overthinking—just vibes and the implicit understanding that at least one person would respond with mild chaos.
What came back was perfect: sharp advice, soft truths, a few emotional gut-punches, with the occasional slightly snarky aside—punctuated with heart reactions, because of course it was.
These are the lessons that stuck. The ones that echo in your head at inconvenient times, guide your decisions when you’re not paying attention, and somehow made their way into everything we’re building here. Consider this less a formal tribute and more a screenshot of collective inheritance—messy, meaningful, and unexpectedly wise.
The Gospel of Kitsch and Formative Crushes | Teresa
The kitschy side of my cultural interests comes entirely from my mom, who loves 60s and 70s pop culture with unselfconscious enthusiasm. She’s the reason why:
1. Some of my first limewire downloads were of ABBA and Francoise Hardy songs
2. I have a *thing* for Christopher Plummer in The Sound of Music (that scene where he tears up the Nazi flag! Biting! My! Fist!)
3. I cannot resist a 1960s, pastel colored house dress situation even if it makes me look like I should be on Valium and baking a nightly casserole.
The Gospel of Practical Magic and Financial Boundaries | Sue
My mom was hard working, loyal and eminently practical which is not wildly different than how I imagine people might describe me. What have I learned from her?
1. She taught me to ski. I was not easy to teach. I distinctly remember being five and crying how much I hated it. Now as an adult, I’m so grateful that she took the time and persevered!
2. She taught me the importance of keeping your own money. When my dad was financially irresponsible one too many times, she took him off the checking account. “One of us has to have good credit.” Lesson learned, Mom.
3. Work hard. Play hard. When she retired, she had 170 days of sick time accumulated. This was a woman who worked hard! I was worried she would be bored in retirement, but she just enjoyed the expanded time for her hobbies. She started tap dancing, joined the Red Hat Society, bought a sailboat, stayed at camp all summer instead of just two weeks, refereed meets for the town swim team, and…and…and. A life well lived!!
The Gospel of Sofa Nests and Side Quests | Angie
My Mom was ahead of her time in decentering men and investing in self-care. The blueprint she set for me includes:
1. knowing how to create the perfect sofa nest (mix of pillows and pets) and snack/beverage configurations to support a robust weekend moviethon-binge watch.
2. Why have one hobby when you can have seventeen? I’d often find her on the couch with the cats doing a puzzle while working on a needlepoint project and half watching TV. Thanks to her I learned how to never be bored.
3. Have at least three wonderful women friends that you regularly call and with whom you have long meandering conversations. I would hide in the hallway and eavesdrop on them, learning how to cope with life, and turn tragedy into material. She taught me (unknowingly) to laugh until you cry and cry until you laugh.
The Gospel of Timing, Truth, and Not Waiting Around | Sandy
My mom was the woman who worked hard and would give anyone the shirt off her back and if you left our house hungry it was your own fault. She also gave me good/interesting advice and showed me a way to live that I feel like many of my friends didn’t have.
1. Never marry someone without having sex with them and living with them first. It’s just a recipe for disaster. This advice she gave to me over dinner one Friday night at our local mom and pop greasy spoon. It was said with her full chest voice in front of her boyfriend of like 5 years.
2. There is a time and a place, her exact words might have been closer to “Be a lady in the streets, a bitch at home, and a whore in the bedroom” but the meaning is the same. There is a time and place for everything. Though I’m a big fan of taking the attitude problem to the streets.
3. This last one, she didn’t teach me, her death did. Don’t live to work. She had things she wanted to do “when I retire” that she never got to do because she passed away at 50. I took that to heart and try to do things I love or want to do now rather than putting them off.
The Gospel of What Came Through the Group Chat
We didn’t set out to build a philosophy—just asked a question and let the answers roll in between heart reactions and side comments. But somewhere between sofa nests and financial boundaries, kitsch and hard-earned urgency, a pattern emerged. These aren’t just memories—they’re operating principles. The quiet rules shaping how we work, rest, choose, and occasionally raise hell.
Not all of these lessons are soft. Some are sharp. All of them were given with love—whether that looked like patience, honesty, or a very loud piece of advice in a diner booth.
Here’s to the “mom people.” The ones who taught us how to live, take up space, and when not to apologize. We’re still learning—often at inconvenient times, and almost always when we need it most.
