In our final reading from the Book of Genesis, Jacob, nearing the end of his life and, perhaps, feeling somewhat nostalgic, takes some time to give over some "blessings" to his children. "Blessings" is in quotation marks for the simple reason that although that's what he calls them, "blessings" isn't exactly what they are: the terms "assessment" or "critique" would be more apt.
Reuben has been a disappointment, feckless, fickle, and not quite understanding of boundaries between child and father's other wife. Simeon and Levi have been impetuous, violent, and have made his relationship with his machatonim (parents of your child's spouse) moot. But Judah has redeemed himself, shouldering the role of the first born while bringing the family back together in some semblance of completeness, if not harmony.
And the list goes on.
The concept of an ethical will, a statement to one's progeny designed to help guide them through a life to be lived without the benefit of a parent's active counsel, is well-regarded in the Jewish tradition. David gives one in this week's haftarah, advising Solomon on what to do later on, and famous ethical wills have come down to us through the ages - there's an entire page dedicated to them on Wikipedia. Jacob is hoping that his children will learn something, and there's some evidence that they do: both Simeon and Levi are cautioned about their zeolotry, with the former being wiped out by it (the Tribe of Simeon doesn't make it much past the end of Deuteronomy) and the latter being exhalted by virtue of it (the Tribe of Levi answers Moses's call at the Golden Calf to stand up for the Lord). It's a matter of what you do with the guidance you are given.
We all seem to have a bit more time on our hands due to the stay-at-home orders, so here's a suggestion: ask yourself what really matters to you in life. Ponder what advice you wished you had received, and what advice you might want to give to others. And then write it out. At the least you can review it from time to time to track your thoughts on the matter; at best, it will be words that your children and grandchildren will come to treasure in days to come.