This is not something I ever expected to be doing.

Last Sunday, after church, I found myself in a discussion group where the assignment was simple:

“Write your own obituary.”

My first reaction?

No thank you.

At 82, I am very much alive — planning trips, leading the Edge Foundation, writing blogs, trying to keep up with my grandchildren. Writing my obituary felt… premature.

And, if I’m honest, a little unsettling.

But the idea stayed with me.

So I decided to give it a try.

It Starts Like a Résumé… Until It Doesn’t

At the beginning, I approached it the way I’ve approached most things in life — logically.

Where was I born?
What schools did I attend?
What jobs did I hold?

But it didn’t take long before that approach fell apart.

Because the real question wasn’t:
What did I do?

It became:
What actually mattered?

And those are very different questions.

What Shows Up When You Really Think About It

As I kept writing, the list changed.

I found myself focusing on:

• curiosity — and how it shaped almost everything

• relationships — lifelong friendships, family, shared experiences
• showing up — really being there for people

• the joy of sports and play

• the value of travel and learning from others
• and the importance of giving something back

I wrote about the Edge Foundation — not as something I built, but as something I believed in.

I wrote about writing — trying, in my own small way, to capture moments that might otherwise pass by unnoticed.

And somewhere along the way, I realized something.

Writing your obituary is not really about your past.

It’s about your values.

The Question It Forces

Once you see that, another question shows up — whether you like it or not:

Am I living this way now?

Am I spending my time on the right things?
Am I showing up the way I want to?
Am I paying attention?

Those are not end-of-life questions.

They are right-now questions.

The Part I Didn’t Expect

After I finished a draft, I sent it to my children.

I wasn’t sure how they would react.

My son — now 40 — said something that genuinely surprised me.

He told me it was incredibly helpful.

Not because it told him about my life.

But because it made him think about his.

What mattered.
How he was spending his time.
What he wanted his life to stand for.

I did not see that coming.

A Strange, Surprisingly Useful Exercise

Let’s be clear.

This is not a natural assignment.

It feels awkward.
A little uncomfortable.
Possibly something to avoid.

But I’ve come to believe it may be one of the most useful exercises I’ve ever done.

Because it cuts through the noise.

It asks, very simply:

When all is said and done, what will actually matter?

An Invitation

You don’t have to be 82 to try this.

In fact, it might be even more valuable if you are 32. Or 42.

You don’t have to share it.
You don’t have to get it right.

Just write a draft.

See where it takes you.

You might be surprised.

I was.

One Last Thought

A friend once told me, near the end of his life:

“It is the little things.”

Writing my obituary reminded me just how true that is.

And maybe that’s the real point of the exercise.

Not to prepare for the end.

But to pay closer attention — while we are still here — to the moments that actually make up a life.