The Problem With Eulogies
A eulogy is supposed to capture who someone was. But it's usually written in the days right after a death, by a person who is exhausted, heartbroken, and responsible for a dozen other things at the same time.
The result is often a eulogy that's loving and well-intentioned, and yet somehow smaller than the person it describes. The stories that mattered most get left out, not because no one cared, but because no one could remember them on short notice, or because the person who knew them best couldn't speak at all.
You can do better. Here is a practical approach.
Step 1: Gather the People Who Knew Different Versions of Them
The person you lost was not the same to everyone. Your mother at 30 was a different person than she was at 60. Her childhood friends knew things her children never did. Her colleagues witnessed a version of her that her family rarely saw.
For a complete picture, you need more than one source.
A few ways to gather stories quickly:
- Send a simple message to people in their address book or phone: "I'm writing a eulogy for [name]. Would you be willing to share one memory of them, in a few sentences? Anything at all."
- Call the people who have known them longest. Don't ask open-ended questions. Ask specific ones: "What's the funniest thing you remember about them? What did they always say? What did they teach you?"
- Check their email or messages for threads that show who they were: what they cared about, what made them laugh, what they were proud of.
You'll collect more than you can use. That's fine. The goal is to find the two or three stories that feel most true.
Step 2: Ask the Right Questions
Vague questions get vague answers. These tend to produce something you can actually use:
- What did they do that no one else did?
- What's the story they told more than once?
- What would they have said about this moment right now?
- What did they teach you, without knowing they were teaching you?
- What is the thing about them that only the people in this room would understand?
- What would they want people to laugh about today?
Write down whatever comes up, even if it doesn't seem relevant yet. Details you ignore at the start often become the center of the eulogy.
Step 3: Structure It Around One True Thing
The best eulogies are not summaries. They're an argument: this is who this person was, and here is the evidence.
Pick one thing that was most true about them. Not the most impressive thing, the most true thing. Then find two or three stories that show it.
A structure that works:
- Open with the one true thing, stated plainly
- Tell the first story that shows it
- Tell a second story from a different time in their life that shows the same thing
- Acknowledge what they meant to the people in the room
- Close with something they would have said, or something you want the room to carry out
Keep it between five and eight minutes. That's roughly 700 to 1,000 words.
Step 4: Read It Out Loud Before the Service
What reads fine on the page often sounds different when spoken. Words that look elegant can be hard to say under pressure. Sentences that seem short can feel long in a quiet room.
Read the full eulogy out loud at least twice before the service. Pay attention to where you stumble or where your voice catches. That's usually the part you need to shorten or strengthen.
If you know a particular sentence will make it impossible to continue, mark it. Have a backup plan: a friend who can finish if you can't. There is no shame in that.
When There Isn't Enough to Work With
Sometimes the problem isn't that there's too little time. It's that the person you lost didn't talk about themselves. Their stories were never recorded. The people who knew them earliest are gone. There are gaps that can't be filled.
If that describes your situation, the eulogy becomes something different. Not a portrait, but an acknowledgment of what you didn't get to know and what you wish you had. That honesty can be its own kind of tribute.
And it's worth saying plainly: this is one reason why writing a life story while someone is still alive matters. Not because death is imminent, but because the window closes faster than anyone expects.
Helping a Family Member Record Their Story Before It's Too Late
If you're reading this before a loss, rather than during one, there's something you can do.
Afterword is a service for people who want to write their own life story, in their own words, while they still can. It guides them through 9 sections covering childhood, relationships, beliefs, proudest moments, and a letter to the family. The story lives on a hosted page, reachable through a physical QR plaque that can be placed on a headstone, an urn, or a garden stone.
When someone dies having written their own Afterword, the family doesn't start from nothing. The stories are already there, in the person's own voice, with the details only they knew.
Afterword can also be used to create a memorial page for someone who has already passed. It won't be self-authored in that case, but families can gather and preserve what they know, photographs, shared memories, stories collected the way this guide describes, and give it a permanent home. The page stays up indefinitely, and everyone who scans the plaque can read what was recorded.
If you're building something like that for a parent or grandparent, the process described above is a good place to start. Collect the stories. Ask the specific questions. Then give them a permanent place.
Afterword is a hosted memorial page and QR plaque service. Authors write their story in their own words using 9 guided sections. The page is permanently hosted with no subscription or renewals. Learn more at myafterword.co or explore it as a gift for someone you love.
Your story deserves to be told in your own words.
Afterword gives you the space to write it, guided questions, permanent hosting, and a memory marker shipped to your door.
Get started →