We experience things differently

In their book, Leading Lives That Matter, Schwehn and Bass include two eulogies that were given at the funeral of Israeli Prime Minister Yitzhak Rabin, which took place in Jerusalem several days after Rabin’s assassination by Jewish ultra-nationalists.

King Hussein of Lebanon—who had once been Rabin’s foe but had become his partner in working for lasting peace in the Middle East—spoke of his friendship with Rabin and his admiration of the prime minister.

The other eulogy, spoken after King Hussein’s speech, was spoken by Rabin’s seventeen-year-old granddaughter, Noa Ben Artzi-Pelossof. Her first two sentences were:

“Please excuse me for not wanting to talk about the peace. I want to talk about my grandfather.”   

Her eulogy included phrases like:

“Grandfather, you were and still are our hero. I wanted you to know that every time I did anything, I saw you in front of me.”

“Others greater than I have already eulogized you, but none of them ever had the pleasure I had to feel the caresses of your warm, soft hands, to merit your warm embrace that was reserved only for us, to see your half-smile that always told me so much…”

Why did this affect me so deeply? Because I have a five-year-old grandson whom I am pouring my life into, and I wondered if my grandson will one day speak so well of me at my funeral.