A plain guide
How to write a eulogy
You’ve been asked to say a few words, and you’d give anything not to get it wrong. You won’t. Here is everything you need, in the order you’ll need it.
This guide is free to read. If you’d rather have help, we’ll write it with you: talk or type for about ten minutes and read the opening free. It’s drafted by AI, only from what you tell us. £39 if you want the rest.
The short version. Don’t describe them. Show them. One true story and two small details will do more than a page of fine words. Aim for three to five minutes. Write it to be spoken, print it large, and pause more than feels natural.
Before you write: collect, don’t compose
Give yourself twenty minutes with a pen and no pressure to write sentences. Jot down:
- What they always said. Catchphrases, tellings-off, the way they answered the phone.
- The story that gets told at Christmas. You already know which one.
- Small things. What was in their pockets. What the kitchen smelled of. How they took their tea.
- The facts people will want to hear: where they were born, who they married, what they did, the names of children and grandchildren.
- What you’ll miss. The honest answer, not the grand one.
Ring one other person who knew them and ask for a memory. You’ll get something you didn’t know, and you’ll feel less alone with the job.
A shape that works
If you were looking for a eulogy template, this is one: five parts, in this order.
- Open with them, not with the occasion. A saying, a habit, an image. “Put the kettle on, then we’ll see” puts someone in the room faster than “We are gathered here today”.
- The life, lightly. Where, when, who, what they did. Weave it into sentences. It isn’t a CV, and nobody needs every job.
- Who they were. This is the heart, and it should be about half of what you say. Tell the story. Add the small things. If people called them stubborn, show them being stubborn.
- What’s left. What you’ll miss, or what they taught you. Two or three sentences. Be specific.
- The close. Many people end by speaking to them directly: “So, Mum. Thank you.” Keep the last line short enough to say with a wobble in your voice.
You can see all five parts at work in our full example, with a note beside each one.
Or let us write it with you
The lists above are what we ask about, one gentle question at a time. Talk or type for about ten minutes, and read the opening of their eulogy free. It’s drafted by AI, only from what you tell us.
How long should a eulogy be?
Three to five minutes is right for most services, and crematorium slots are often tight. At the pace people speak at a funeral, that’s:
- 3 minutes: about 400 words
- 5 minutes: about 650 words
- 7 minutes: about 900 words
If the celebrant or funeral director has given you a time, stick to it. Shorter and true beats longer and padded, every time.
Write it for the ear
- Short sentences. One idea each. You’ll be reading this with a tight throat, and long sentences fall apart.
- Use the words you’d use at the kitchen table. If you’d never say “cherished”, don’t write it.
- A little laughter is welcome. It’s relief, and it’s usually how they’d want to be remembered. Put it in the first half, never the last minute.
- Leave out the phrases everyone has heard: “lit up every room”, “heart of gold”, “sorely missed”. They’re true of everybody, so they say nothing about them.
- You don’t have to mention how they died, or a hard last year. A sentence or two is enough, then bring them back as themselves.
Getting through reading it
- Print it large, 18 point or bigger, with one breath to a line. Number the pages.
- Mark your pauses. A stroke at the end of a line for a beat. Two strokes where you want a moment to land. Pauses feel endless to you and natural to everyone else.
- Read it aloud twice beforehand, once to someone. The places you stumble are the places to shorten.
- If your voice goes, stop, breathe, look at the page, carry on. Every person in the room is on your side.
- Give a spare copy to someone who could finish it for you. You almost certainly won’t need them to. Knowing they could is what helps.
Would it help to have it written with you?
Talk to us about them for ten minutes, much like the list above, and our AI will shape what you say into a eulogy in your voice. We ask a little more where it helps, the way a celebrant would. You read the opening free. If you go ahead it’s £39, with two rounds of changes and a large-print reading copy with the pauses already marked.
It’s drafted by AI from what you tell us, and only from what you tell us. We think you should know that. Full refund, no reason needed, up to 14 days after you pay.