Things My Boomer Parents Did That Actually Make Sense (And I’m Grateful They Taught Me)
From a Gen X mom who finally understands what all the fuss was about.
I used to roll my eyes when my parents would wash and reuse ziplock bags, or when my mom kept a drawer full of plastic containers that once held ice cream or margarine. My dad filed every receipt like he was preparing for an audit that never came, and they both believed that anything, may it be a wobbly chair or a relationship on the rocks deserved to be fixed before you threw it away. Back then, I thought they were just being frugal, stubborn, maybe even out of touch with the times.
Fast forward a couple of decades, and here I am—a Gen X mom, raising teens in a digital, fast-paced world, juggling work, family, finances, and that constant inner pressure to “keep up.” And suddenly, all those “old-school” habits? They’re starting to make sense. Scratch that, I think “they’re brilliant” is the more appropriate way to describe it!
“What I once dismissed as old-fashioned, I now see as wisdom—quietly passed down, woven into the fabric of who I am today.”
—A Grateful Gen X Daughter
In the chaos of modern life, I’m finding myself craving simplicity, sustainability, and the kind of grounded wisdom my Boomer parents lived by every day. I used to think their ways were outdated and were really old-school. Now, I see them as timeless.
So, here it is! My thank-you letter to my Boomer parents, and a list of the things they did that I’m not only grateful for, but now proudly passing on to my own kids.
USE IT UP, WEAR IT OUT, MAKE IT DO OR DO WITHOUT.
They called it common sense. We now call it sustainable living.
My mom could stretch a leftover chicken into three meals, and my dad could fix anything with a duct tape. As a kid, I thought we were being frugal to a fault. But now, in a world obsessed with upgrades and instant gratification, their “waste-not” mindset feels revolutionary. Today, I patch jeans, repurpose leftovers, and make coffee at home. Not because we can’t afford to spend, but because I know the value of things. My parents showed me that frugality isn’t cheap - it’s smart.
KEEP FAMILY FIRST, ALWAYS.
They didn’t just say family was important—they showed it.
I remember that even up to the time that my siblings and I had our own families, we would always make time to come to my parents’ house for lunch or dinner. They thought me that you must show up. Every birthday, every family gathering, every Sunday lunch or dinner. No RSVP required.
My parents taught me that family isn’t an event — It’s a commitment.
As a mom juggling work, parenting, and community involvement, I now carve out time for the same things: meals together, visits to grandparents, and random calls just to check in. My kids may roll their eyes now, but one day, they’ll get it too.
Weekly visits, Sunday dinners, and phone calls “just to check in” were part of their rhythm. I’m now making those same efforts with my own kids—and it feels like anchoring ourselves in a busy world.
DON’T SHARE EVERYTHING TO THE WORLD
Privacy is still powerful.
Boomers were private. Maybe too private. But there’s something grounding about having a sense of what stays within the family circle. I grew up with the saying, “Don’t air your laundry to people who aren’t going to help you wash it.”
Some things are sacred: relationships, struggles, and personal milestones. In the age of oversharing and curated feeds, I get the wisdom in that. I’m teaching my kids that privacy isn’t secrecy—it’s self-respect.
“Not everything is for everyone. Protect your peace.”
WORK HARD, BUT, REST WELL
They didn’t hustle 24/7—and neither should we.
My parents were up before the sun, coffee in their hand, they worked hard—not just to earn money, but for purpose. But they also valued rest. Not spa-day rest, but quiet, simple, soul-restoring habits—like reading newspaper or watching their favorite drama series or TV show, or even having a chat to our neighbor.
Now I understand balance isn’t about doing less, it’s about doing what matters. I may hustle hard, but recently, I started to unplug on Sundays, no work phone on hand, watching Netflix series or Disney movies with my 3 children. I’m learning to do it, because rest isn’t lazy, it’s necessary.
EMERGENCY FUNDS & “RAINY DAY” THINKING
The emergency fund wasn’t a suggestion—it was a non-negotiable.
My parents didn’t talk much about money, but they modeled smart habits. They didn’t rely on credit. They saved. It’s a lesson that hit me hard in adulthood, especially when life threw curveballs what if there’s an incident of job loss or high medical bills, or unforeseen home repairs. Thanks to their example, I’m now the one preaching, it’s a legacy of financial peace I hope to pass on.
TAKE PRIDE IN THE LITTLE THINGS
It wasn’t about perfection—it was about intention.
Clean shoes. Ironed clothes. A tidy home. A thoughtful note. My Boomer parents had pride in the everyday. As a kid, I thought it was all too formal. But now, I see the beauty in it. Pride in your appearance, your space, and your work isn’t vanity—it’s self-respect and gratitude in action.
COMMUNITY MEANS SHOWING UP
They didn’t wait to be asked—they just showed up.
Whether it was dropping off soup for a sick neighbor, checking on a relative who live alone or paying respect to relatives of neighbors or friends who pass away, my parents will try their best to be there for them. They didn’t see it as “community care.” It was just what you did.
Now, as I raise my 3 teens in a disconnected digital world, I try to model the same. We say hi to our neighbors. We show up for community market. We help where we can. Because connection doesn’t just happen—it’s built.
COOK AT HOME AND MAKE IT SPECIAL
Homemade wasn’t boring—it was love in action.
Growing up, our kitchen smelled like garlic sauteing in oil, fresh rice steaming and sinigang simmering on the stove. Back then, I didn’t realize how much intention went into those meals—the planning, the budgeting, the quiet act of love behind every dish. And back then, I used to crave fast food because it felt convenient and cool. Now? I crave the warmth of home-cooked sinigang or the smell of banana bread baking on a Sunday afternoon. Cooking at home isn’t just about nourishment—it’s how we connect. It’s where life slows down. It’s where stories are shared and where my kids learn our family’s roots one bite at a time.
FIX THINGS BEFORE YOU REPLACE THEM
Don’t give up just because it’s hard, try fixing it first.
If something broke in our house, my parents didn’t immediately toss it out. My dad would bring out his trusty toolbox and my mom would find a needle and thread. They believed in the value of trying. They knew that not everything broken was worthless—and not everything new was better. This mindset stretched beyond things. It shaped how they viewed friendships, marriages, and life. They didn’t quit at the first sign of discomfort. They repaired, recommitted, and recalibrated.
In a culture where we’re often encouraged to upgrade or walk away, I find so much value in this Boomer wisdom. It’s taught me to pause before replacing—to reflect before rejecting. Sometimes, what’s worn just needs a little care.
CELEBRATE THE SIMPLE THINGS
You don’t have to wait for milestones to make memories.
One of my most vivid memories as a child is our family’s outing to Batangas beach every summer, a random weekend where we would go biking to a nearby park and bring snacks and have picnic there. There was no special occasion—just the simplicity of being together. They didn’t need big gestures or fancy getaways to feel joy. Life’s magic was in the little things: warm bread, handwritten letters, quiet prayer, and slow conversations.
As a Gen X mom who sometimes feels caught in the rush of doing more and being more, I’m constantly reminding myself of this truth: the best parts of life aren’t always found in the big moments—they’re in the quiet, shared, ordinary ones.
A Thank-You Letter to My Boomer Parents
To my Boomer Mom and Dad,
I didn’t always understand your ways. I used to joke about the packed freezer full of “just-in-case” meals, or wonder why you’d rather repair a broken appliance than buy a new one. I rolled my eyes whenever I see handwritten notes when I go home from school and you are not home and I thought you were being overly cautious about money, about people, about life.
But now? I get it.
Because in this whirlwind of raising a family, navigating modern chaos, and trying to hold it all together—I find myself leaning into the very habits I once shrugged off.
You taught me how to stretch a dollar, how to show up for people, how to rest without guilt, and how to take pride in the smallest of things. You gave me roots while the world was obsessed with wings. And for that, I’m endlessly grateful.
I hope I’m making you proud—not just by remembering what you taught me, but by living it, and passing it on.
Love always,
Your Gen X daughter who finally gets it.
I didn’t always appreciate my parents’ ways. But now, in my own season of parenting and adulting, I see the wisdom in every habit, every routine, every “old-fashioned” way of doing things.
So yes, I’ve become my parents. And I’m okay with it.
Sometimes I hear myself repeating their phrases— “Money doesn’t grow on trees,” or “A place for everything and everything in its place.” I chuckle, but also smile. These weren’t just quirks. They were values. Habits that built resilience, stability, and care.
And in a world that sometimes feels like it’s moving too fast and fraying at the edges, I’m grateful for the steady hands of the generation before mine.
Thanks, Mom and Dad. You knew what you were doing—even when I didn’t.
