Guide · Ceremonies

How to write and read a eulogy

You've been asked to speak at a funeral in two days' time and you don't know where to start. This guide is for exactly that.

Maybe you were asked. Maybe you offered and now slightly regret it. Maybe there was simply nobody else who could do it. Whichever it is, you have between one and three days, you're exhausted, and you've been handed the job of summing up an entire life in front of a room full of people in tears.

The first thing we want to tell you is that you don't have to write anything brilliant. Nobody is expecting literature. What people remember about a eulogy isn't whether it was well written: it's whether it was true. And that you can do, because you knew the person.

Here's how to go about it, step by step, with the time you have.

01Before you write, gather

The most common mistake is to open a blank document and stare at it for an hour. Don't start by writing: start by gathering.

Make two or three short phone calls to people who knew them. Brothers and sisters, friends, colleagues, neighbours. Don't say "tell me what they were like" (that leads nowhere); ask them specific questions:

• What's the first picture that comes to mind when you think of them?
• Was there something they were always saying?
• What did they do that nobody else did?
• When did you see them happiest?
• What did they teach you without meaning to?

Write it all down without filtering, even if it seems like nothing much. These calls usually last ten minutes, and they're often the most comforting moment of the whole week, for you and for the person on the other end.

02The structure that works

Almost every good eulogy has the same shape. There's no need to invent another.

Who you are and why you're speaking (20 seconds)

"I'm Sarah, her youngest daughter." Nothing more. People need to know where you're speaking from.

Who they were, in one sentence (30 seconds)

A single idea that sums the person up. It's the line people will remember. "My father was a man who never once left the county and knew the name of every tree in the village."

Two or three specific scenes (2 minutes)

This is the heart of it all. Don't include five: include two or three and tell them well, with detail. A particular day, a particular place, something they said.

What they leave us (45 seconds)

What is different in you because this person was here. No grand statements: a way of doing things, a hobby they passed on to you, a way of treating people.

The goodbye (20 seconds)

Short and direct. You can speak to them. "Thank you, Gran. We'll remember you."

03Five rules that make it easier

• The specific always beats the solemn. If you're torn between a beautiful sentence and a small, real detail, use the detail.
• Write the way you speak. Read it aloud as you write. If there's a word you would never say out loud, cut it.
• Laughter is allowed. Humour isn't disrespectful. It's often the moment that brings the most relief to the room, and the one the family remembers most gratefully.
• You don't have to say everything. You're not writing the definitive biography. Leave things out; the people who loved them already know.
• Don't ask anyone's permission. There is no correct version of that life. There's yours, and it's valid.

04A template to fill in

If your mind has gone blank, copy this and fill in the gaps. Then take out whatever you don't need.

05How to read it on the day

Having the text written solves half the problem. The other half is the moment you have to say it.

• Print it large. 16 or 18 point, double-spaced, on one side of the page only, with the pages numbered. Tearful eyes can't read small print.
• Don't read it from your phone. The screen goes dark, notifications pop up and the text is too small. Paper doesn't let you down.
• Keep water nearby. Your mouth goes dry all of a sudden; it's the first thing that happens.
• Find a spot at the back of the room. If you look at familiar faces, you'll crack sooner. Look at the back wall and only glance up now and then.
• Speak more slowly than feels natural. Nerves speed you up. What feels painfully slow to you sounds just right from the outside.
• If you cry, stop. Breathe, have some water and carry on. Nobody will judge you: everyone in that room is on your side, and many of them are struggling more than you are.
• Have a plan B. Give a printed copy to someone you trust in the front row. If you can't go on, they finish reading it. Just knowing that plan exists takes away half the fear.

06What if you can't face it?

Then don't do it. That isn't cowardice, and it isn't letting anyone down.

There are two ways out, both equally dignified. The first: write it yourself and have someone else read it, perhaps a nephew, a family friend, someone who loved the person but wasn't quite as close. The words will still be yours.

The second: have it led by someone who does this for a living. A professional celebrant prepares the ceremony with you, gathers what you want to say and delivers it with the skill that comes from having done it many times. All you need to do is be there, which is already a lot.

What we don't recommend is forcing yourself. A goodbye isn't an exam.