Viduy, confessing one’s transgressions, is one of the taryag (613) mitzvos (Sefer Hamitzvos, Positive Commandment 73). It is the part of doing teshuvah that involves verbally articulating one’s sins. The traditional prayer of viduy is repeated throughout the Yom Kippur prayers because it is part of how we achieve atonement on that holy day.

It is understandable that in the last moments of life, a person would want to do teshuvah in order to return to their Creator with a clean slate. Those familiar with the concept of teshuvah will note that the literal definition of the word teshuvah is “return.” This is the first word in the haftorah we read during the Aseres Yemei Teshuvah (Ten Days of Repentance), on Shabbos Shuvah: “Return, Yisroel, to Hashem, Your G-d, for you have stumbled by your sins.” (Hoshea 14:2) “Doing teshuvah” implies returning to Hashem’s ways with a cleansed neshamah.

How very fitting is it, then, that when dying — when actually returning one’s soul to Hashem — a person would want and need to be engaged in the act of teshuvah. The specific viduy at the end of life includes an acceptance of one’s imminent death and embraces one’s passing as a means of kapparah – atonement. (See the nusach (text) of viduy later in this article.)

The recitation of viduy can be extremely emotional, including for the loved ones of the sick person. For that reason, the best procedure is to have everyone go out of the room, leaving only the person saying viduy and the person needed to help them to say it. (Shulchan Aruch Y.D. 338:1).

It is important, however, to inform family that viduy was said. It will give them comfort knowing it was taken care of, and they will know that they do not need to raise the issue. Letting the family know that their loved one has said viduy is also likely to sensitize them to the frame of mind the person is in.

The sick person then gives tzedakah. This charity should be specifically designated for the poor, rather than given to an organization supporting other causes, however worthy. (Gesher Hachaim 1:5:7, as cited in The Mourner’s Companion)

Viduy is also a most appropriate time for the sick person to forgive anyone who ever wronged them, and to ask forgiveness of anyone they ever wronged (Chochmas Adam 151:12); the person saying viduy should be instructed to do both these things. While it is obviously best in the latter case to ask forgiveness directly from the person they have wronged, if this is impossible (as is usually the case with a deathbed viduy), it is sufficient for the sick person to pray to be forgiven by others, and to articulate that request. This is similar to what is said in Tefilah Zakkah before Kol Nidrei.

Just as it is never “too soon” to do teshuvah, it is never “too soon” to say viduy. One way of reducing anxiety around saying viduy is to say it whenever confronting a medical event that has potential danger, such as surgery.

A prominent member of our women’s chevra kadisha would ask me to say viduy with her before she underwent any procedure that required general anesthesia. I said viduy with her at least three or four times, the last time just a few hours before her passing, when she could no longer speak but was still aware of what I was saying, and could think along with my words.

A friend of mine shared with me that his father recited viduy five or six times before his actual passing; not only did he say viduy before each surgery, he also said it when he was transferred to the critical care unit.

My mother, a”h, who passed away over 25 years ago, always said she wanted to die in her sleep, as she was afraid of prolonged suffering, and even more so of burdening those around her. I would tell her that Yaakov Avinu (our forefather Jacob) asked to be ill so he could prepare for his death, and that being sick had important advantages. At the end of her life, living in Jerusalem, she was admitted to the hospital for a suspected heart attack. However, she had no pain, and seemed well. That evening, many grandchildren and other family members gathered in her room, and she captivated them with stories from her childhood in Lithuania.

The next morning, my sister came to see her and consult with her doctors. As she stood outside our mother’s room, a doctor emerged, shaken. He said that as he was examining her, she suddenly died. He believed she had had an aortic rupture, which leads to instant death. Her wish had been fulfilled.

When getting up from shivah, my sister remarked to our father, ztz”l, that our mother often had “premonitions” about important events that were soon to occur. She was surprised that our mother had not had a feeling that she was on the verge of the most important event in her life — her own impending passing — and that, consequently, she was not able to say viduy. He replied that, in fact, she did have such a feeling. After everyone had left her room the night before she passed away, she had called him and asked him to come to the hospital. When he got there, she told him that although she was feeling well, she felt it would be a good idea to say viduy, especially since the doctors were concerned about her heart. And so, he said viduy with her.

It gave all of us great comfort to know that our mother, a”h, who grew up in the Mir, was from a family of Litvishe roshei yeshiva (heads of Lithuanian yeshivos), and who fully understood the value of viduy, did not forfeit that merit by having her wish for a peaceful death fulfilled, and that she had merited saying the full viduy before her passing.

As long as a person is alive, it is not too late for them to say viduy. The tefilah can — and should — be said with someone who can no longer speak. Someone can say viduy in the choleh’s presence, and ask them to think along with the words being said. Doing so allows the person to fulfill the mitzvah and gain the merit. (This works through the concept of shomeia k’oneh: one who hears is considered as one who responds.) When saying viduy in this situation, it should be said in the first person, using the word “I,” so that the person can think along with the words being spoken. </span

Not only can one say viduy with someone who can no longer speak, a person who is in a coma or is unconscious for any other reason, can also be led in viduy. One should tell them to think along with the words being spoken, and should not assume that this effort is in any way pointless.

People who have woken from comas commonly say that they were aware of events around them, including everything that was said. (This also teaches a valuable lesson about how very careful one must be regarding what they say in the presence of someone in a coma, but that is outside the scope of this article.)

I remember saying viduy with a congregant of mine who had had a stroke and was considered to be brain-dead. This man, whom I’ll call Reb Yudel, was in his early 80s. He had escaped to the US before the Holocaust. He was not a learned man, but someone I would call very “traditional.”

One day, while I was visiting him, he went into cardiac arrest. This was in the days before DNR (Do Not Resuscitate) orders were routinely given for such patients. I was rushed out of the room, and a horde of medical personnel succeeded in stabilizing him. I was a young rabbi at that time, and I suddenly realized that Reb Yudel may not be with us much longer. I understood I should say viduy with him sooner rather than later.

I went home, took my Rabbi’s Madrich (manual) and went back to the hospital. When I returned to his room, I sat on his bed, took his hand, broached the subject of viduy in the way the Shulchan Aruch instructs, and told him in Yiddish, “Reb Yudel, I’m going to say viduy with you.”

Although he had been declared brain-dead, and despite the fact that he had just been resuscitated after a “code,” he gripped my hand very, very tightly. I knew that Reb Yudel had been a butcher, and marveled at the strength of his grasp. I said the introduction in Yiddish, and the viduy in both Hebrew and Yiddish. He clenched my hand the entire time.

When I finished saying viduy, he released my hand. Although Reb Yudel was not learned, and was not even a fully practicing Jew, it was clear to me that he understood not only what I was saying to him, but also the significance of it. I was sure it was ingrained in his mind from his childhood in Europe.