My mum died when I was at primary school. But I remember her vividly, 40 years on. She was a very compassionate person, very sociable, highly intelligent, had a sharp tongue (not with us but others), and put her money where her mouth was. In the 1960s when short of money she had two lodgers - Indian medical students, the first non-white people in our village and my god did she cop a load of flak for that. To her dying day, people crossed the street rather than speak to her. She didn't care.
My brother who is older than me and remembers more grown up stuff tells me she was a socialist - which we both have been too, all our lives. She was religious but also very tolerant of others' beliefs - the day she died my brother and I became atheists and we have never wavered so she didn't teach me much there, sadly. In my career though I worked in faith schools and enjoyed their ethos, and also taught in inner city schools where the kids were mainly sikh or muslim. Mum started the first ever playgroup in our village so women could work and when the council threatened to close it down because she was unqualified - she damn well went and qualified as an NNEB. She was in her 40s and sat in classes with teenage girls. In the final exams she qualified in the top 3 in the country. We were so proud of her. I learned to try and ace exams, from that. She then worked in a really tough inner city school as a TA. She was the Brown Owl and Guide Leader in our village (I refused to even join them - I'm not a joiner). But I think I drew from that the courage to sometimes run groups, and lead other people in various ventures.
Once I said to someone, I wish my mum had lived to know my kids - and I could have learned how to be such a brilliant mum from her. They said some mums are so great you don't need them for years and years to learn how to be a good mother from them. And I think that was right.