My mother was an entrepreneur long before I knew what the word meant

She trained as a teacher in England, left her home in Dar es Salaam to immigrate to the West, and built multiple early childhood education centers from the ground up.

She led with her heart — genuine, generous, spiritual, and fiercely committed to what mattered most: People.

Her work ethic was unmatched.
Her obsession with education ran deep.
First with her three sons.
Then with every child who walked through her doors.

She built environments where learning felt joyful and safe.
Where families felt seen and supported.
Where the culture she created in one center carried into the next.

She didn’t talk about “customer experience” or “culture carriers.”
She just lived it. And lived it well.

So much of my leadership lens came from watching her:
The clarity that comes from staying grounded in your values.
The power of long-term relationships.
The importance of hiring well.

She also gave me one of the greatest gifts of my life — introducing me to meditation in my late teens.

I didn’t fully appreciate it at the time.
And by the time I found the words to truly thank her, she had already begun her long and courageous battle with Lewy body disease — now more than 12 years in.

I hope she still feels what it meant to me — and what it continues to mean.

Meditation became a lifelong practice.
It’s shaped how I move through the world.
And now, it’s something I’ve passed on to my own children.

It’s also why I serve on the board of the Parkinson’s Association of Southwest Florida — because of her, and because of my father, who became her devoted caregiver. Their grace, courage, and quiet resolve — it’s a daily reminder of what real strength means.

This weekend, I’m honoring her:
The way she led.
The way she gave.
And everything she’s taught me — about business, about life, and about what really lasts.

Happy (belated) Mother’s Day.