The death of someone we love forces us to stop. Amid grief, memories, conversations, and shared moments return, but so do questions we may not ask ourselves often enough: What did we learn from that person? What part of them still lives in us? What mark did they leave on the way we relate to others?

A few days ago, I had to say goodbye to my mother, Norma Perel, an extraordinary woman who was much more than a mother to me. She was also a friend, a colleague, and a partner in several projects. As I think about her life and everything we shared, I have come to understand more clearly that a person’s legacy is measured not only by what they accomplished, but also by what they helped make possible in others.

As a mother, Norma gave her children something invaluable: the confidence to believe in ourselves and the freedom to follow our dreams. She gave us space to grow, make mistakes, learn, and find our own way to make a difference in the world. She never felt the need to decide which path we should follow. Her way of supporting us was to be present, to trust us, and to allow us to discover who we wanted to become.

That trust had an enormous impact on my life. When I decided to move to the United States, she supported me even though she knew it meant being far from family. Looking back, I better understand the generosity it takes to truly support someone’s dreams when those dreams also require accepting distance and letting go.

Over the years, our relationship also grew into a friendship. Norma was always there to listen to me, encourage me, and support me. She celebrated my projects and didn’t always need an answer; often, she was simply there. Perhaps that’s why, after so many years in coaching, I still believe so deeply in the power of presence and listening. Supporting someone does not necessarily mean solving their problems. Often, it means creating the space for that person to find their own answers.

Our professional journey together also followed a very special path. Inspired by my parents, I chose to study psychology, as they had. Years later, something happened that I have always found wonderful: they followed my brother and me into the world of coaching and became coaches, mentor coaches, and coaching supervisors.

Norma was a founder of the ICF Argentina Chapter, a board member for several years and also a founder of the Latin American Coaching Supervision Network. She also volunteered for many years, presenting monthly coaching demonstrations from master coaches.

Norma and I wrote four books together that helped bring greater visibility to the ICF coaching competencies in Latin America. We also worked together to develop coaches, mentor coaches, and coaching supervisors, and she mentored many Master Certified Coaches around the world. Her influence on the coaching community was far greater than she herself ever realized.

Norma always kept a low profile. She did not need to be at the center of attention or receive recognition for what she did. Yet she loved attending coaching conferences, and those gatherings energized her. I had the good fortune of sharing many conferences with her, as well as traveling to different parts of the world, conversations, projects, and learning experiences that have now become deeply meaningful memories.

When someone is no longer with us, we realize that many experiences that once seemed ordinary were actually creating memories that would one day become extraordinarily important. Since her death, I have thought a great deal about what remains of us after we are gone. I believe what remains is what we taught, the trust we placed in others, the opportunities we helped create, the conversations someone remembers years later, and the people who grew because at some point we listened to them, encouraged them, or believed in them. Above all, what remains is the way we made the people who shared our journey feel.

I feel enormous gratitude for having had a mother like Norma and for everything we were able to share. I will miss her tremendously, but I also know she will remain with me in what I learned from her, how I support others, the projects we built together, and, above all, in my heart.

Her passing also leaves me with a question that I would like to share with you: If our legacy is built every day through the impact we have on others, what kind of mark are we leaving today on the people around us?