I read Warren Buffett’s final Thanksgiving Letter, dated November 10 2025, with deep sadness. It was like watching my screen go dark.
At 95, he remains sharp and engaged but admits with candour that his physical abilities are on a steady downward slope. Father Time has moved into the neighbourhood.
The letter carried the same hollow ache I felt watching the last episode of Seinfeld – knowing Jerry, George, Kramer and Elaine would never return. For years they brought warmth and laughter into my living room. Warren Buffett did the same for me in the markets.
His steady voice helped me rise above the noise. In a business dominated by greed and self-interest, his values and principles kept me grounded, reminding me that investing could be fun and about more than just making money.
He taught me to spot quality companies without using a three-dimensional spreadsheet or calculating earnings to the fourth decimal point. He warned on doing equations with Greek letters in them or paying attention to macro forecasts. Why waste time on something you know nothing about. Instead, he said, invest in businesses you like and picture what they’ll look like in 10 years’ time. Then research them thoroughly.
Personal roots
In his farewell letter, Buffett expressed his lifelong attachment to Omaha, noting that many of the people closest to him – family, friends and long-time colleagues – still live there. He singled out Greg Abel, who will carry the Berkshire torch, and his lifelong friend and partner Charlie Munger, who helped define the monumental success of the business.
Buffett had resisted moving to financial hubs like New York, choosing instead to remain in Omaha. Omaha was not just his home base, but the community that nurtured him and anchored his life. This is where his personal roots ran deepest.
Success was not only about wealth but about remaining tied to the places and relationships that were central to his identity. He continues to live there, unpretentiously staying in the same house he bought in 1958 for $31,500.
The tale of Rose Blumkin
While Buffett’s letter spoke of the many people close to him in Omaha, for those of us who sat through Berkshire meetings in the early 2000s, one name was always there – Rose Blumkin, or Mrs B as Buffett affectionately called her. Mrs B wasn’t just a business partner; she was one of Buffett’s dearest friends and a legendary Omaha folk hero. His warm tributes turned “Buffett the investor” into “Buffett the human being”. Buffett loved telling stories about her at Berkshire meetings; how she worked into her 90s, could outsell anyone, and how she was tougher than any Wall Street titan.
Rose Blumkin had all the qualities he looked for in management – energy and passion, even though she was only four feet 10 inches tall. Mrs B had no formal education – she could not read or write – but her mental agility and merchandising skills ran circles around top business graduates.
“One question I always ask myself in appraising a business is how I would like, assuming I had ample capital and skilled personnel, to compete with it. I’d rather wrestle grizzlies than compete with Mrs B and her progeny. They buy brilliantly, they operate at expense ratios competitors don’t even dream about, and they then pass on to their customers much of the savings,” said Buffett once.
Born in 1883 near Minsk in Russia, Blumkin was one of eight children born to Rabbi Solomon and Chasia Gorelick. She started working in her mother’s grocery store when she was six and by the age of 13 was running a store with six men reporting to her.
‘Sell cheap but tell the truth’
In 1913 Blumkin married Isadore Blumkin, who fled to the US to avoid being drafted into the Russian army. She followed three years later with $66 in her pocket.
In 1919 she and her husband moved from Fort Dodge in Iowa to Omaha in Nebraska, where she pawned a sewing machine and started Nebraska Furniture Mart, selling discounted furniture from a basement shop. She outsmarted her competitors by sourcing low-cost stock in bulk and selling at reduced prices. “Sell cheap but tell the truth,” was her slogan. Nebraska Furniture Mart would become one of the largest furniture stores in the US.
In 1984 Buffett persuaded Mrs B to sell 90% of her company to him for $55m without due diligence. “She didn’t need me, but I needed her,” he famously repeated. When the inventory was counted it was worth $85m, yet Mrs B would not go back on her word. The sale agreement was a one page document that cost $1,400 in legal and accounting fees.
In 1989, at 96 years old, Blumkin fell out with her grandchildren, who she believed were undercutting her authority. She retired, but soon after opened a competing store that did so much damage that Buffett was forced to incorporate it into the main business for $5m. “They paid cash, no credit. I love my children,” Rose bragged. This time though, Buffett made her sign a non-compete contract.
Mrs B finally retired at 103 and died a year later. Buffett would warn his executives: don’t retire – see what happened to Mrs B when she did.
Laughing at absurdity
Buffett likes to say he was just a very lucky guy who stayed in Omaha, ate too many hamburgers, and somehow ended up with a few billion dollars. The truth is, he gave us something money can’t buy: a way to laugh at the market’s absurdities while still believing in its promises. Who else could have said: “Don’t spread your investments too wide: if you have a harem of 40 women you never get to know any of them very well.” Or, “No matter how great the talent or effort some things just take time: you can’t produce a baby in a month by getting nine women pregnant.”
As with Seinfeld’s last episode, there was no big finale – only the wry humour and everyday wisdom that made the whole show extraordinary. Buffett leaves us with laughter, humility and priceless common sense.
Top image: Warren Buffett. Picture: George Pimentel/Getty Images.
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Very pleasing read, thanks for sharing!