How to write a great eulogy? Here are some tips based on my experience as a professional speechwriter, collector of great eulogies (see William Safire’s Lend Me Your Ears: Great Speeches in History), and grieving daughter who last week wrote one for her mother. (A copy of the eulogy is below.)
- Celebrate: try to write a eulogy that celebrates the person’s life and uplifts and inspires people. When people leave a service they want to feel good about the person they loved or cared for; they want comforting words and joyful memories that will help them bear their sadness in the days to come.
- Tell stories, share what you learned: rather than simply reading a list of the person’s life history and accomplishments, talk about what they meant to you and why. Or share a story that captures what the person was all about. Stories are interesting, memorable, and are much easier to talk about, especially when you’re nervous. Or share three things that you learned from the person.
- Open with a declarative sentence or anecdote that gets attention. Paying tribute to his nephew John F. Kennedy, Jr. Sen. Ted Kennedy opened with: “Once, when they asked John what he would do if he went into politics and was elected president, he said: “I guess the first thing is to call up Uncle Teddy and gloat.” I loved that. It was so like his father.”
- Be yourself: don’t worry that you don’t know how to write or speak before a crowd. Just be yourself and write from your heart, not your head. Use short sentences, simple words, much like how you speak. (This will help you speak what you write, too.) Genuine and maybe a little rough at the edges always wins out over overly-polished.
- Thank people: thank people for their help, especially important if the recently deceased was ill for some period.
- Have a beginning, middle and end: a good eulogy, like any good speech, starts with a point, fills in the middle with stories and anecdotes supporting that point, and concludes by reminding people of the point.
- Find a metaphor: sometimes using a metaphor helps to ground the eulogy. Try to find one that is especially meaningful to the deceased. See how I used the metaphor of a Styrofoam swimming noodle in the eulogy for my mother. (below)
- Keep it short: unless you’re an amazing speaker, keep the eulogy to under five minutes. As a society we’re used to 15 and 30 second commercials, so even if your remarks only take a couple of minutes, that’s fine. It’s not about length, but celebrating the person’s life. Nothing wrong with short and sweet — as long as it isn’t saccharine.
- Practice speaking: delivery is as important as the words. Practice reading the eulogy out loud. If some sentences seem too long, shorten them. If some words trip you up, eliminate them.
- Print out in large type: Print out your speech in large type, at least 14 point font, and make it double spaced. This will help you read it. If you can give the eulogy without reading, do it. But for most of us — especially when we feel so vulnerable and emotional — reading is a better option. And if you’ve practiced, it will sound good.
Eulogy for Elizabeth Kelly
MESSAGE OF THANKS: Lois (3 minutes)
On the night of Feb. 24 when Bette learned that she had terminal cancer, she told us, “We can do this. It won’t be easy but we can.”
We believed her, as we always believed my mother when she was convinced something was possible. It was a pattern of our lives.
In this case “do” meant that Bette would do everything in her power to help us help her.
Bette’s belief that “we can do this” was like her belief that if you know how to swim you’ll be fine even when you swim too far out and the current starts pulling.
Our father would sit on the beach worrying that Bette was swimming too far out into the ocean. She paid him no attention, believing in her soul that there was nothing to worry about. Worse case you turn over and float on your back, letting the buoyancy and goodness of the salt water guide you back.
There were times during Mum’s illness when she or we would stumble into depression, guilt, frustration or exhaustion. (And sometimes all at the same time.) Mom would reassure us, “We can do this.”
And thanks to everyone here today we did help Bette enjoy the final weeks at her Popponesset home.
All of us together became like one of those Styrofoam swimming noodles. It doesn’t look sturdy or safe, but those noodles give you a weird kind of support. You still have to use your arms to paddle and kick your feet, but that little piece of Styrofoam, gets you past danger, over fear, through exhaustion, and back to the beach.
My father really believed that Bette would die from swimming too far out by herself. He would be surprised to learn that Bette finally held on to a noodle with all of us with her. That noodle was powered with all the prayers, cards, calls, banana breads and good wishes from you, her dear friends and family.
Thank you so very much. You meant the world to Bette, and to us.
RENIE
Thank you all for being here. We are deeply saddened by the loss of our mother, aunt, sister, cousin, and friend. Caring about others was my mother’s ROLE AND JOY in life.
She cared deeply about each and every one of us in this room. If you look around you will see that that was no small task. She loved life, and her large family and circle of friends kept her energized.
Speaking of energy– it was 46 years ago this week that she brought her youngest child, my brother Jim, home from the hospital after his birth. She came home to 5 other children – a ONE, TWO, THREE, FIVE and SEVEN year old. One of my siblings asked her recently: How did you do that?! She replied: I don’t know, it was a MIRACLE
During her 10 years in Popponesset my mother filed her weeks and days PURPOSEFULLY with:
- Bridge club
- Book club
- Women’s club – membership committee
- Fuel assistance volunteer duties at the senior center
- Occasional meals for the men’s homeless shelter in Hyannis
- Not to mention the Girl’s Game night on Monday
- And trips to the theater in Providence and Falmouth
Dad would often say: Geeze Bette, would you just sit down!
If that short list wasn’t enough to keep her occupied, she had what she called “a little job”.
She worked one or two days a month driving clients whom she called her “Miss Daisy’s” to doctor’s appointments. Often she would spend the day traveling to Boston and back.
Although she was paid, she really didn’t consider it a job. Mum developed friendships with several lovely ladies. These caring friendships, like all of her relationships were very meaningful and fulfilling to her.
My mother was the most caring person I’ve known, and certainly a role model for all of us. By doing things for others, without expecting anything in return, she helped us understand the most important things in life.
The last thing I would like to mention is Mum’s love for the beach. As you heard from Lois she loved the water. Having family members spend a summer day with her on Popponesset Beach was a highlight, and truly pleasure for her.
I want to share a quote from Isak Dineson that she cut out of the newspaper shortly after my father died. It’s been posted front and center on her refrigerator for 5-long years
The cure for anything is: Salt-water, sweat, tears or the sea
So if you’re feeling sad, alone, or have a free moment please take a walk on the beach (any beach will do). When you’re there take in all the wonderful friendships that you have had in you life and be glad.
Thank you.
