I often talk about my relationship with my father, Bill Mackey. He was my best man at my wedding, an original investor in Whole Foods Market, a long-time board member, and my greatest mentor in business.
In my new book The Whole Story, I talk in detail about our close relationship, the crucial role his mentorship played in the growth and success of Whole Foods Market (especially in its earliest days), and the hardest thing I’ve ever done in my life – asking him to resign from the board of directors in 1994 (just a year before he was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s Disease).
My parents both grew up during the hard times of the Great Depression and my father was only 20 years old when Pearl Harbor was bombed and the United States entered World War II. He wasted little time joining the military and married my mother soon after he did. When the war was over, my parents did what millions of other people did during this time – they bought a home in the suburbs, in Houston, Texas, to raise their children in a safe and secure environment. From here, the Baby Boom Generation was born.
Seeking safety, financial security, and raising a family left little opportunity for “following your dreams.” In many ways, I believe my father was eventually able to live out his own entrepreneurial dreams through me and Whole Foods. This wasn’t the case for my mother.
In a recent interview with Rich Roll, he asked me a question about my relationship with my mother, Margaret Mackey. Rich is an excellent interviewer and asks fantastic questions, and this question truthfully caught me off guard. I rarely talk about my mother because our relationship was complicated, and I was much closer with my father.
He said, “When I think of that inner child, that young John, who is grinning with love, and I reflect on the many ways in which life erodes our inner child, hardens our edges, and turns us into our own worst critics… I can’t help but think of your mom in some regards – she was a tough customer and as much as you just wanted that approval from her, she was not giving it up, all the way to the end… You tell the story, but I want to hear more about that.”
My mother was a rebel in her own right. She grew up in a small, traditional town in the Baptist bible belt in Bastrop, Texas, in the 1920s and 1930s, and she rebelled against the many restrictions that culture created. She smoked, drank, gambled, and danced, which was highly frowned upon in her town, especially for women during that time period.
She was exceptionally intelligent, proudly college-educated, and deeply respectable. For women of her generation, earning a degree was a significant achievement in a time when the patriarchy was powerful. She placed great value on higher education, which is why she was deeply disappointed when I dropped out of college. Even as Whole Foods grew into a successful business, she couldn’t fully accept my chosen path. Whenever I visited home, I would hear comments like “You have such a good mind and you could do anything with it, John. Law. Medicine. Finance. Politics. What are you doing wasting your great potential being a grocer?”
As an adult looking back, it’s now clear that my mother never had the chance to pursue her personal passions outside of her role as a wife, mother, and homemaker. I realize now how hard that must have been for her. While she loved our family, it undoubtedly stifled her ability to pursue her own dreams.
In our very last conversation before she died, my mother asked me to promise that I would return to school and earn a degree. I told her that I never would—I was doing what I loved with Whole Foods. Looking back, I wish I had just told her what she wanted to hear. What would it have really cost me to make that promise, to let her believe her son would eventually fulfill the life she envisioned for him?
I now believe that my more mature, evolved self would have handled that moment differently. I’ll always regret that her last moment with me was one of disappointment.
As children, we often forget that our parents have their own dreams and life struggles. As we mature, we begin to see them as humans on their own life journey, not just in their roles as our parents. For my mother, higher education was a rare and precious opportunity, not something to be rejected. I truly believe her intentions came from a place of genuine love and concern for my future. A parent’s love is unique and enduring—even during challenging times. They love us in a way that no one else will (although we may not always recognize or understand this in the moment).
I like to believe that wherever my mom is now, she’s proud of me and all that Whole Foods has done for the world. She’d also be happy to know that I did receive an honorary degree from Bentley University. And there’s one thing I know for sure—I have her to thank for my rebellious spirit.
