Lessons from my mother

I’ve only had the opportunity to see my mom speak to an audience once.

It was incredible: the way she captivated the audience as she told her story, the way she only practiced once and still delivered a flawless presentation, the way she looked at me when she talked about our family, and I knew she was so proud of us.

She got a standing ovation, like she always does.

I couldn’t tell you most of what she said, or what order she said it in. I don’t know what the topic was, or if her grammar was perfect. I just know how I felt — I was in awe.

A woman came up to me, afterwards, and asked me the strangest question: “What’s it like to have her as your mom?”

I was dumbfounded. Totally unprepared, I mumbled a few words together, saying something about how all moms are moms and mine is no different… or something.

But… now that I’ve had a few years to think about it (that was back in 2011), I finally have answer.

Growing up, my mother told me I was special. Every single day, she reminded me of how important and wonderful I was.

She told me I was gorgeous, brilliant, and could be anything I wanted to be. She taught me how much I matter in this world. She never put me down or shut me out.

Her love for me was immeasurable.

She taught me that it’s okay to be wrong, as long as you set things right. To always be on time, and to work four times as hard as everyone else to prove yourself.

She reminded me that for every bad day you get three good days, and yes, you can absolutely bank good days on escrow.

She told me not to cry for more than 24 hours, because then you get wrinkles. It’s been hard to follow that particular piece of advice, especially this week… I think I’ll just take the wrinkles.

She taught me that as long as you have an education, you will always be rich, because no one can take it away from you.

When money was tight, she made sure we had our annual birthday celebrations anyway, because good memories are priceless.

She showed me that having faith in something bigger than yourself gives you hope and perspective.

And she showed me that if you take the time to get to know people, you’ll make incredible, lasting friendships.

When I got married, she warned me that marriage is hard work, but it’s worth it.

She taught me about transformation — that we are never, ever stuck, because when one path ends, another opportunity is waiting for you. I can only imagine what sorts of shenanigans she’s up to in heaven now.

She showed me that you can have everything, but not all at once.

Through her I learned that everything has a price — no matter what you want, you have to ask yourself: what are you willing to pay to get it?

We didn’t always agree on everything, and that caused a few rifts in our relationship. But she always loved me. That never, ever wavered.

Everyone always talks about how my mother and I look the same. Believe me, the similarities are so much deeper than the surface.

Driven, stubborn, strategic: these describe the both of us. Ruthlessly analytical, but with a need to dream and create stories to answer the questions we don’t have answers to.

All that said, all I ever wanted was to be as amazing as my mom, and to make her proud. She had this saying, “watch out for the buttons!” — it describes the phenomenon of being so proud that your chest puffs up and, if you’re not careful, the buttons on your shirt will go flying. Those buttons were like gold to me; I would do anything for those buttons.

She always encouraged me, pushed me to broaden my horizons, to step outside my comfort zone, to explore the unknown. She would tell me, “The whole world is available to you! Life is too short.” I took that very literally, excited to call her every time I came home from another trip abroad, eager to tell her of my adventures.

I still feel like I’ll never catch up, despite her insistence that I’ve done more than she could, and in thirty years less time, no less. She set the bar, and I’ve been working my darnedest to jump over it. (One day I’ll get a standing ovation… today does not have to be that day.)

All of you have had the wonderful opportunity to experience bits and pieces of mom — as a friend, mentor, or colleague. She came into your lives totally unexpectedly, and changed them for the better — I know this for a fact.

But she brought my sister Cristina and me into this world. She taught us everything she knew, lessons learned through both her successes and her mistakes. Rest assured, we will be carrying her spirit on wherever we go.

In her last months, mom talked a lot about butterflies. They’re the perfect symbol of transformation, breaking out of their terrestrial chrysalis to fly freely, high into the heavens. I’ll never be able to see a butterfly again without thinking of her.

That said, in the scientific community there is the notion of the butterfly effect, which is the concept that small causes can have large effects. Mom was only on this planet for 60 years, but wow, what an effect she’s had on us all.