You enter a solemn space where a eulogy is about to be delivered. Turns out that eulogy is for you.
What do you hope is said?
It's a daunting question, one most of us would rather ignore. But there are compelling reasons to plow in and consider answers, as I did at a morning seminar last week.
I was there for work, mostly. Beginning Wednesday at sundown, Jews around the world begin a 10-day period of self-reflection that includes our humbling plea for forgiveness from those we've hurt. As always, I have my work cut out.
Yet, reflection — and regret — are not unique to one faith group, which is why I see value in embracing "legacy letters."
Also called ethical wills, these letters are not legal documents. They are not a laundry list of who gets Mom's china and Dad's jade elephant.
They are personal outpourings to the people we love, sharing in letter form our values and hopes, sorrows and mistakes, gratitude and wisdom.
They are us at our most real and raw.