My Mother, My Hero

I wish you could have met my mom. She represents much of the reason for the existence of any good qualities in me. She died four years ago, far too early in my opinion. She was only 66.

No one loved to laugh more than Sally. No one listened more actively than Sally. No one saw the good in people (sometimes when not much was present) than Sally. No one loved babies and children more than Sally. No one believed in people more than Sally. I happened to be fortunate enough to be her son.

I remember sitting at the breakfast table, as a ten-year old, reading box scores from the previous night’s ballgames. Mom listened as though she cared about these teams as much as I did. She would ask me questions about Johnny Bench’s home run hit to right field, since he normally hit them to left field. I recall mom writing love notes to me and putting them in my lunch bag. I remember mom waking me up in the morning making me feel like the new day was destined to be my best one. She made growing up…fun.

Everyone wanted Sally around. She discipled young women. She served in her church. She invited people to stay in her home. She never told people how to live their life. Instead, she modeled the way for them.

Interestingly, she never finished her college degree. Starting a family was more important to her. Despite the fact she lacked a degree on her wall, she was very high in emotional intelligence. Her EQ made up for what she might have lacked in IQ. She was high in self-awareness, self-management, social awareness and relationship management. That’s what made her effective with people. I have often said: success in college is about 75% IQ, 25% EQ. Success in life is about 25% IQ, 75% EQ.

I remembered my mom on Mother’s Day yesterday. I had a relaxing day with my own family, and celebrated well. Yet, I still missed calling my mom—who is my standard for mothers, and for people.


My Mother, My Hero