NBC just announced that they are launching a new game show based on Wordle, the popular word puzzle from The New York Times.
Long before it was heading for primetime, I delighted in the daily 5-letter puzzle while strategizing the best starting word — ocean, adieu, house — and hoping I’d solve it efficiently and keep my daily streak going. Each guess is an act of faith, believing the right word is waiting to be solved successfully.
But the real ritual that’s mattered most to me has nothing to do with guessing five letters; it’s the daily Wordle text thread I’ve kept with my mom.
My family has always had a love of games
Games have always been a part of my family’s routine. Growing up, I was the oldest of 13 cousins on my mom’s side and remember running around my grandparents’ house while my parents, grandparents, aunts, and uncles played games like Spades, Euchre, and Trivial Pursuit. Being old enough to learn the card game Oh Hell felt like a rite of passage in my tween years and readied me to sit across from the adults at the grown-ups’ table.
As an adult, the gaming tradition has continued. I don’t remember who found Wordle first, but my mom and I have both been hooked since it was in its early beta phase. Every morning for the past several years, without ever skipping a day, my mom has sent me her results of the game. If she doesn’t solve the puzzle, I typically get a surprise-face emoji or a funny caveat like “I hate double consonants,” or “too many possibilities.”
The game has been an easy way to stay connected
My mom and I live in the same city and see each other a few times a month, but our lives don’t overlap the way they once did. I don’t have kids like my two brothers do, which means she’s regularly pulled into their orbit of practices, games, and school events. Without anything similar to offer her, Wordle has become a low‑effort, no‑pressure reason to reach out every single day, even when there’s nothing urgent to say.
Sometimes when I’m driving to work in the morning, I’ll see a text message pop up from her on the dashboard, and I’ll use voice-activation to listen to the message. I’ll chuckle to myself when the monotone audio starts by saying “Wordle 1,787 4/6 …”
It’s what I appreciate most about my relationship with my mom; I can connect with her anytime, about anything, no matter how mundane the topic, and she’s always happy to interact with me. Our relationship reminds me of how close I was to my grandma (my mom’s mom) when she was alive. I could sit at her table, shuffling a deck of cards, and she’d join me for a game of Gin Rummy — no formal invitation needed.
We’re excited to see the show, but sticking to our format
As Wordle heads to primetime, complete with buzzers and prize money, I can’t help but think about what made the game special long before producers got involved. It was the way a simple puzzle appeared in my life and instantly gave me a daily excuse to connect with people I love the most.
I’m sure everyone involved wants the show to highlight intergenerational connectedness, and I think it will do just that. I hope my mom and I both watch it, but the only streak I’m invested in keeping is the one that starts each morning with five letters and ends with her.
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