The Gifts I Almost Missed

What my mother taught me when I wasn’t paying attention

By Donna M. Bergman

Published November 18, 2026

A reflection on the leadership lessons I inherited from my mother without recognizing them at the time. Her ability to manage competing priorities, build alignment, stretch limited resources and stay focused on long-term success shaped both the leader I became and my belief that meaningful change begins when we recognize the strengths others bring.

Mom was a dedicated housewife throughout most of my childhood, but the word housewife barely captured the scope of her life. There were PTA meetings, church events, scouts, school activities and seven children to keep moving. There was always something going on.

Our family life was good but often felt chaotic. Mom was always busy. Dad would come home tired from work. Weekends revolved around sports, chores and church. As a teenager, I was convinced there had to be something more.

I didn’t know exactly what I wanted out of life, but I was certain it did not involve seven children or becoming a housewife.

I would not be like Mom. I wanted more, I thought.

What I thought I knew

For years, I focused on all the things that I saw in Mom and didn’t want to be. I saw a woman who chose to have a family and I wanted a career.

Mom had rules for everything. There were rules for when the phone was permitted to ring: not before 9am Monday-Saturday, only after 11:30am on Sunday, not between 6:00-7:00 pm any day and absolutely no calls after 9:00pm ever.

I viewed her through the narrow lens of a daughter. I compared her to the other moms and imagined the woman I thought I would become.

I didn’t want to be known only as someone’s wife or someone’s mom. I wanted to be known as me.

During my younger years, I was so focused on what I didn’t necessarily admire, I missed the qualities and abilities that made Mom capable of doing the impossible.

The Gifts Hidden in Plain Sight

My career seemed to represent the greatest distance between Mom and the woman I became. Or at least that was what I thought.

Early in my career, I did a lot of project management. Success depended on getting different people with different motives all at the table to agree on why change was necessary and what success looked like.

Mom spent years moderating disputes, giving us a little room to express ourselves while keeping us focused on the bigger issue. She kept us moving forward, even when forward meant the smallest of concessions.

Seating arrangements in the family station wagon were a constant pain point. Who would get to be in the “way back,” and who would be segregated and positioned directly between Mom and Dad in the front seat, where it was clear that no shenanigans would be tolerated?

Mom was an expert at fairness. She saw the entire playing field and knew instinctively when my turn was up and when it was my brother’s turn to choose the cartoon we would watch next on Sunday morning.

Big or small, Mom kept us all close. To this day, all seven of us get together. We bicker like we are still young but always align in the end.

Creating teams and turning plans into action were gifts from Mom.

As my career progressed, I realized that leadership is not just about operations. It also required understanding resources, priorities and tradeoffs. Every decision meant balancing what was needed today with what would be needed tomorrow.

Mom managed to feed and clothe a family of nine on a very limited budget, with my father providing the sole income. She covered the basics, but she also found room for more. Every summer, we took a week-long family vacation. Every winter, we spent a week visiting my grandparents in Arizona. Seven children participated in sports, which meant paying for uniforms and equipment. The list goes on.

She didn’t just understand the math. She owned it. She knew what was important and could not be skipped. She knew what could be minimized and how to do it. She had a very clear picture of long-term success, something I would not appreciate for years.

Financial planning, budgeting and mid-month corrections are all gifts from Mom.

A former boss and mentor challenged me to move beyond tactical operations and begin thinking more strategically and long-term.

There was only one person in my life who was a master long-term planner, a person who could paint a picture of the future and quietly march towards it. Mom.

Just weeks before I was set to leave for college, Dad announced his retirement. The announcement clearly surprised Mom.

Mom and Dad had purchased retirement property in Arizona years earlier, but it was just vacant land. They had house plans they had been working on with an architect, but that did not seem like enough of a plan in my still under-developed, teenage brain.

My younger brother was just starting high school in Southern California and Mom had just gone to work full-time a few years earlier. This seemed impossible.

This was not a one-dimensional problem. It threw a wrench into everything. I remember my parents arguing about paying for my college, the impact of moving my younger brother from busy Orange County to rural Arizona and how unfair it seemed to cut short Mom’s new identity as a career woman.

But it worked. How? Mom always had a clear vision of success. Success meant that she and Dad were together. Everything else could be worked out.

Not wanting to give up her new career, Mom simply started her own business. She built a new community through volunteering with the Chamber and church. My brother traded the Southern California vibe for a cowboy hat, 4-H and a horse.

Together, Mom and Dad built the “Ranch” in Sonoita, Arizona.

Strategic planning is not about having the perfect plan. It is about knowing where you are today, knowing where you are going and navigating the uncertainties between here and there. No one did that better than Mom.

Strategic planning, adjusting to headwinds without losing focus and leading change are all gifts from Mom.

I wish I could say I recognized these connections over the years and told Mom how deeply she had shaped me, my beliefs and my career. The truth is that I did not understand them until it was too late.

By this point, dementia had taken hold. I wanted to share these discoveries with Mom. I wanted her to know how much of me is because of her.

My gratitude for the gifts she gave me was lost to the confusion.

It was a conversation we would never get to have.

What It Revealed

Inheritance is more than possessions, traditions or genetics. We inherit ways of seeing the world, solving problems and caring for others.

I inherited values. I inherited grit, determination and focus.

Mom had given me so many gifts, but it took years for me to recognize them. Only now, when I look back at what I have accomplished, can I see how clearly they shaped me.

At my very best, I am the best parts of Mom.

For years, I thought my mother and I had chosen different paths. In some ways we had. But beneath the surface were the same values, the same determination, and the same belief that difficult problems can be solved when people work together.

I spent years focusing on our differences. Only later did I begin to appreciate everything she had quietly passed on to me.

The Bigger Lesson

How often do we focus on deficits rather than strengths, both in ourselves and in the people around us?

When we focus only on what is broken, we miss what already aligns. When we look for strengths, we begin to see opportunities and recognize the gifts hidden in plain sight.

Imagine What Could Be

What if we spent less time focusing on what frustrates us about one another and more time understanding the strengths each person brings?

It works in families. It works on teams. It works in communities.

I’ve spent much of my career helping organizations work together: hospitals, physicians, health plans, employers and community organizations. Each sees the world differently and faces its own pressures, priorities and challenges. Yet meaningful change happens only when people recognize that everyone brings something valuable to the table.

Maybe that's the lesson I learned from Mom. Alignment begins when we stop focusing on what's wrong with each other and start looking for the gifts hidden in plain sight.

Seeing What Is Possible

The older I get, the more I realize that becoming myself did not require rejecting my mother's influence.

It required understanding it.

The gifts that have served me most were often the ones I spent years overlooking.

Looking back, I did not become less like my mother, as I once expected.

In many ways, I became more like her.

And that turned out to be one of the greatest gifts of all.

Helping People See What Is Possible.

Donna M. Bergman is an author, speaker, and healthcare leader exploring caregiving, leadership, resilience, and healthcare transformation.