I've always been curious about ancestor worship. To worship someone who I have never had a conversation with, generations past, seems illogical.
Then my uncle died. He was a potter and artist, and I have a few of his works which I use for ritual. It's funny now how his death has completely rearranged my thinking of these vessels and pots. And with it a new understanding of ancestor "worship".
If death is the greatest transformation of Self, then everything we leave behind will be effected by this.
Praise the Sun.