In continuing my tradition of using Instagram absolutely perfectly — post once a year, mostly about work — I figured I’d toss in a curveball and overshare about something inappropriately personal. My mom, Patricia Duffy, passed away a couple weeks ago. Everyone’s mom is the best mom, so while I was back in NJ, sifting through old photos and memories, I thought a lot about why my mom was *actually* the best. I thought about all the big, life-altering moments that she helped guide me through — important decisions about my life and my relationships and my career — and still found myself coming back to a lot of smaller, less consequential, quieter moments. Because the thing about my mom was, whether I was deciding whether or not to go to the intimidating sleepover party or where to go to college, she was in my corner. Unwavering in her support. Clear in her point of view! But always there for me. When I was a kid, that was just what the job of Mom was. But as I got older, and I saw how truly rare unconditional love + support is in a world that is all impermanence and change, I realized that wasn’t in the job description of Mom. It was in the character of the woman who I’m so fucking lucky happened to be mine. She was the absolute best mom in the whole world, and even though I’m devastated that the impermanence of the world caught up to us and took her away so suddenly and so young, I’m even more grateful for every moment of unconditional love we got to show each other. I love you forever Mom.