Wingspread and Reflection by Rabbi Julie Hilton Danan
The only legacy I have ever received from family are some rare memories of immense love. Those who know me know I received this from my grandmother, Dorothy Baillie.
From my family of origin, I received survival tools, most of which I’ve laid aside for good reason. Example - a certain quick-wittedness, along with pointed, dismissive sarcasm helped me to make light of serous pain once upon a time, but it is of little value to me now (though it still pops up in my head along with a few other habits).
With a milestone birthday on the near horizon, I'm currently working on an "Ethical Will" for my children. The process is teaching me how to feel comfortable sharing myself a little more deeply. In writing, I tend to equivocate in terms of frank advice. When communicating with adult children, I hold back. Adult offspring don’t benefit much from the well-meaning advice of aging parents, anyway. But framework of ethical legacy enables me to offer a little bit more.
I wish I’d begun the formal effort earlier, as I’m finding a lot of value in it. To know and accept yourself more graciously is no small thing.
Soon, I'll begin sharing certain “ethical legacy” prompts and my responses in hopes it encourages others to do something similar. It’s been the best place to put myself forth honestly and lovingly. Like many older adults, I sometimes bother myself with useless thinking. I have wasted too much time here or there; I could have done or been more; I should have known. Those feelings represent useless truths.
We have so much more to offer our children, one another, and to our own selves.
