The pressure of writing a eulogy can feel heavy on your shoulders. You're facing a room full of people, all sharing the sting of grief, and you’re entrusted with capturing the essence of a life well-lived. All the while, you’re mourning the loss of a loved one yourself.
Finding the right words to honor them, choosing which memories to include, highlighting stories that celebrate their spirit, while offering comfort to others — it's a daunting task, isn't it?
But you don't have to navigate this emotional task alone. We’re here to help you express the depth of our feelings and write a eulogy speech that truly reflects the incredible person we've lost.
That's why we've created this comprehensive guide, packed with 10 inspiring eulogy examples that showcase different ways to tell a life story. These examples, alongside our tried-and-tested writing tips, will equip you with the tools you need to transform your speech into a beautiful tribute that celebrates the life of someone special.
Writing a eulogy can be a scary task — especially if you don’t consider yourself good with words. But remember — it's also a beautiful opportunity to honor the life of someone special.
You don’t have to be a writer or a public speaker; you just have to be yourself. Here are some tips to help you write a powerful and meaningful eulogy:
A eulogy serves two significant purposes. Firstly, it celebrates the life of the person, highlighting their achievements, passions, and the impact they had on others. Think of it as a chance to share stories and memories that paint a vivid picture of who they were and how they lived.
Secondly, a eulogy offers comfort and support to those who are mourning. Your words can provide solace by acknowledging the shared loss and expressing the positive emotions and memories associated with the person.
Don't underestimate the power of shared stories. Reach out to family and friends, encourage them to contribute memories and anecdotes. Ask about the person’s childhood, their dreams and aspirations, funny quirks, or defining moments. Look through photo albums and keepsakes to jog memories.
This isn't just about collecting facts but capturing their essence. Did they have a favorite joke they always told? Were they known for their infectious laugh or their quiet wisdom? These details will paint a picture of the person everyone loved that you can weave into your eulogy.
Just like any good story, a eulogy needs a clear structure with a beginning, middle, and end.
Beginning (1 to 2 minutes): Start by introducing yourself and your relationship to the person. This establishes your connection and right to speak about them. Consider opening with a quote, poem, or a brief but impactful anecdote that reflects their personality or a core value they held dear.
Middle (3 to 5 minutes): This is the heart of your eulogy, where you share the stories and memories you gathered. Focus on specific moments that showcase their character, humor, passions, or accomplishments. Don't just tell people what the person was like; describe it through vivid storytelling.
End (1 to 2 minutes): Conclude your eulogy with a final tribute. Express how they will be missed and the legacy they leave behind. This could be a simple statement about the impact they had on your life, a quote that embodies their spirit, or a call to action to continue their work.
This is where your eulogy truly stands out. Don't be afraid to include personal stories that illustrate the deceased's character. For example, if they were known for their unwavering support, share a time when they went above and beyond to help you through a difficult situation. These personal anecdotes connect with the audience on an emotional level and make the eulogy more relatable.
This is a time to be honest about your feelings. It's okay to cry, laugh, or share a funny memory that brings a smile, even during a sad occasion. Your genuine emotions will resonate with the audience and create a sense of shared humanity. Sharing your emotions gives others permission to do the same.
While you want to share meaningful stories, aim for a eulogy that's 5 to 10 minutes long. People are more likely to stay engaged with a shorter, heartfelt speech than a long and drawn-out one.
Once you’re done writing, comb through your eulogy to find sections that can be shortened, removed, and tweaked a bit. Read your eulogy aloud several times to ensure it flows smoothly, connects well, and conveys the emotions you want to express. This will also help you build confidence as you prepare to deliver it. Consider asking a trusted friend or family member to listen to your eulogy and offer feedback.
Now that you have a roadmap for writing your eulogy, you might be wondering what it looks like in practice. Here's the thing — there's no single "right" way to write a eulogy. Each person's life is unique, and their eulogy should reflect that.
However, seeing a sample eulogy can be a great way to spark inspiration and get your creativity going. The following examples showcase different ways to incorporate the tips we discussed and personalize your eulogy.
Here are some examples that we’ve written to help you understand how to structure a eulogy and make it personal, effective, and heartfelt. While these are just sample eulogies, you can use them as inspiration to write your own.
Standing before you today, my heart aches with a grief that feels immeasurable. Lisa wasn't just my wife, she was the other half of my soul, the sunshine on a cloudy day, the laughter that filled the silences. We met in the unlikeliest of places — a bustling farmer's market, me fumbling for my dropped apples, and her with a mischievous glint in her eye as she helped me gather them. It was a connection as instant as it was undeniable.
Lisa wasn't afraid to get her hands dirty, a trait that translated into every aspect of her life. Whether volunteering at the local animal shelter, her weekend passion, or tackling a home improvement project with a fierce determination that often left me both amused and slightly terrified, she approached everything with infectious enthusiasm.
No marriage is a fairy tale; that’s what makes it real and beautiful. Ours was a love story woven with the threads of everyday life. We weathered storms, big and small, from late-night talks navigating difficult decisions to learning to compromise over whose turn it was to take out the trash.
But through it all, there was a fundamental respect, a deep understanding, and a love that only grew stronger with time. We built a life together, a home filled with love, shared dreams, and the comforting knowledge that no matter what life threw our way, we would face it together.
Lisa leaves behind a family who adored her, parents who cherished her visits, and countless friends who valued her loyalty and compassion. Lisa was a beautiful mix of intellect, kindness, and a zest for life that touched everyone who knew her. We will carry her memory in our hearts, a constant reminder to embrace life's adventures, big or small, and to cherish the connections that make it all worthwhile.
My name is Erin. Agnes and I go way back. Forty years to be exact. We met in the third grade at McKinley Elementary, two little girls with mismatched socks and dreams of becoming astronauts. Back then, I was the shy one, always hiding behind my book. Agnes, bless her soul, wouldn't have any of that. She dragged me onto the playground, taught me how to jump over the gate, and got me into all sorts of trouble.
Agnes wasn't just a friend; she was a sister I acquired along the way, a companion on this long, winding road we call life. Forty years. Think about that — four decades of friendship, a lifetime of memories woven together like threads in a well-worn sweater.
There were scraped knees and skinned elbows, and secrets whispered under the covers at childhood sleepovers, and teenage heartbreaks, our first beers.
As adults, our lives took different paths — marriages, children, careers — but the strength of our friendship never shook. We celebrated each other's triumphs, big and small, from graduations and promotions to the sheer joy of a grandchild's first laugh. We were there for each other through life's inevitable heartaches, a shoulder to cry on, a hand to hold, a listening ear that never judged.
As Winnie the Pooh so aptly put it, "If you live to be a hundred, I want to live to be a hundred minus one day, so I never have to live without you." While I may not have gotten all those hundred years, Agnes, our friendship enriched my life in ways words can't express.
And for that, I am eternally grateful. Rest in peace, Agnes. I can’t wait to see you again.
A sibling is truly a friend for life. And there are no words to describe the feeling of losing that lifelong friend. The world feels a little dimmer without my brother, David, by my side. You may not have guessed if you saw us as adults together, but we weren't always best friends. Growing up, we were more like competitive teammates than cuddly siblings.
Every game of backyard baseball turned into a mini World Series, complete with trash talk and questionable calls from our self-appointed umpire (usually Mom). One particularly epic battle involved a rogue fly ball that shattered a neighbor's prized flowerpot. While grounded for a month, the memory of David's sheepish grin and whispered promise to replace the pot (a promise he kept with a bouquet of wildflowers) still brings a smile to my face.
As adults, our competitiveness morphed into a shared drive for success. David, with his relentless work ethic, carved a path in medical ethics. He built a beautiful life with his wife, Alison, and their children, Taylor and Jesse, who – dare I say — remind me so much of their Dad.
My heart swelled with pride at every promotion, and every challenge he conquered. We may not have always spoken every day, but a simple phone call was a reminder of the bond that crossed miles and busy schedules. We were always there for each other, ready with a listening ear or a shared laugh, a silent understanding that only siblings could have.
David's absence leaves a huge gap in our family, but his memory will forever be a beacon of determination, humor, and brotherly love. We will carry his legacy forward, cherishing the memories we made and finding comfort in the knowledge that the bond we shared will never die — it will forever connect us.
My father, Daniel, wasn't a man known for grand pronouncements. He was a man of quiet dignity, a gentle strength that ran deep. Standing here today, the ache in my heart feels almost too much to bear, like a physical wound, without him by my side. Dad was my compass, a constant source of wisdom and courage.
Those who didn't know his strength got to see a glimpse of it during his illness. He faced it with a quiet determination that never faltered. There were no dramatics, no self-pity. He focused on living each day to the fullest, his spirit never dimmed.
One of his greatest joys during that time came from volunteering at the church's soup kitchen. He found happiness and purpose in connecting with others, sharing a smile and a warm meal with those in need. It was a testament to his faith and his deep conviction.
Dad wasn't a man who preached, but if you saw his life, you’d be a believer too.
Throughout my life, Dad led by example. He instilled in me a strong work ethic and a deep sense of fairness. He taught me the importance of helping others, a value he lived out every day. He may not have said "I love you" often, but his love was the foundation of our lives, evident in every packed lunch, every late-night conversation, every reassuring hug.
Dad will always be remembered and cherished in our family and in the church community he loved. He didn't follow the well-trodden path. He lived a life of dignity, leaving a trail of kindness, compassion, and strong faith for all who knew him. We will carry his memory in our hearts, forever grateful for the love he gave, the lessons he taught, and the strength he embodied.
As we gather here today, the melody of "Que Sera Sera" plays on repeat in my mind — a song that perfectly embodies Grandma Clara. It was her favorite, a chorus that was heard all through our house — "Whatever will be, will be, the future's not ours to see." This was a philosophy she lived by, embracing life's uncertainties with a smile and a sparkle in her eye.
She was my grandmother, she was a storyteller, a relationship advisor, a magician that made our worries disappear, and a champion for all of us.
Grandma wasn't one to sugarcoat things. Her wisdom came wrapped in blunt honesty and a healthy dose of humor. I remember countless evenings curled up on the worn armchair in her living room, listening in rapt attention as she recounted tales of her childhood adventures — riding horses on the family farm, sneaking out after curfew for a forbidden swim in the creek, and her first airplane ride.
But Grandma wasn't stuck in the past. She took a genuine interest in each of us, her grandchildren. She'd stay up late patiently untangling the knots of my fishing line (a skill I never quite mastered), cheer the loudest at Thomas' soccer games (even when his team lost miserably), and engage in heated debates about the latest video game with Emily (a language barrier I suspect Grandma secretly enjoyed).
Her love wasn't expressed in grand gestures but in the countless ways she made each of us feel special. Whether it was the hand-stitched quilts she gifted for birthdays, the cards filled with silly jokes and embarrassing childhood stories, or the way her eyes crinkled at the corners when we achieved something big (or even just small), she had a unique way of making each of us feel like the most important person in the room.
Grandma Clara’s memory will forever be a warm hug. We will carry her lessons in our hearts, forever grateful for the love she gave, the stories she shared, and the unshakable belief she had in each of us.
Since Grandma believed that whatever will be, will be — and if the future’s not ours to see, at least now we know we have a loving angel in heaven, smiling at us as we carry her legacy forward in this crazy, unpredictable life.
Last year, we found out that Emmy might not see her fifth birthday. Born with cystic fibrosis, we knew that life was going to be hard. We thought we were prepared, but little did we know that Emmy would be our biggest strength.
Emmy's story, though heartbreakingly brief, is a supernova of courage and love. She taught me, her Dad, more than I could ever teach her. She taught me the power of imagination, the endless strength of the human spirit, and the profound impact of kindness, even in the face of adversity.
Her disease was a thief that stole her breath and made even the simplest tasks a monumental effort. Yet, Emmy, with her fiery red hair and a laugh that could warm the sun, defied every expectation. She made it to the exciting age of eight — and even if she lived to be eighty, it wouldn’t be enough.
I don’t know how I’ll face the world without my little firecracker by my side. This quote explains how I feel:
“In some aspects, losing a child is like a wall, but instead of getting over it, you must carry the wall with you, wherever you go, for as long as you live. The wall is immovable. You can’t go anywhere until you learn to move the wall. Over time I have realized that in order to move forward, knowing that I must bring this wall with me, that the best way to do so is to metaphorically flood the soil near the wall with water, and have the wall float with me, instead of me having to carry it. Every act of love and kindness turns to water. Water and love can penetrate and move anything. It just takes time. I need to turn my wall into a raft.”
We may never understand why Emmy was taken from us so soon, but her memory will forever be a guiding light. We will carry her lessons of resilience, compassion, and the fierce joy of life with us always.
Emmy, my little firecracker, your light may have dimmed here on Earth, but it continues to shine brightly in the hearts of those who loved you. Thank you for the gifts you gave our family, and the world, and especially, thank you for showing me the true meaning of courage and love.
The air in this room feels heavy today, thick with a kind of silence that only comes from the absence of a truly special person. It's not the kind of silence that settles after a long meeting, but a quiet that speaks of a space left unfilled, a laugh unheard, a brainstorming session forever incomplete.
We're here today to remember Sandra and the impact she had on all of us, not just as colleagues, but as friends.
Sandra wasn't one to shy away from a good challenge. In fact, she thrived on them. Remember that time we were launching the new marketing campaign for our eco-friendly packaging line? We were stuck, the ideas stale and uninspired. Then Sandra walked in, a mischievous glint in her eye, and pitched the idea of partnering with a local environmental artist to create a series of interactive murals in key cities.
It was outrageous, a little risky, but undeniably brilliant — just like Sandra. And guess what? The campaign became a runaway success, winning awards and putting our company at the forefront of the green movement. That was Sandra – always pushing boundaries, never afraid to think outside the box.
But Sandra's impact went far beyond her brilliant ideas and inspiring work ethic. She had this uncanny ability to remember everyone's birthdays, not just with a generic card but with a personalized note that always managed to capture your essence. And, of course — CAKE!
She was the mastermind behind the legendary after-work drinks at that little pub down the street, the ones that built genuine connections and turned colleagues into friends. And let's not forget her listening ear. Sandra had a way of making you feel heard, understood, and valued, even on the most stressful days.
Her legacy lives on, not just in the award-winning campaigns she helped create but in the way she taught us to approach our work with passion and creativity, to collaborate with enthusiasm, and to value the human connections that make coming to the office more than just a job.
We'll miss Sandra dearly, but we'll carry her spirit forward, striving to create the kind of work environment she would be proud of — one filled with laughter, bold ideas, and a genuine sense of camaraderie. We'll raise a glass (or two) at our next after-work drinks, sharing stories and remembering the incredible woman who brought so much light and joy into our lives. Rest in peace, Sandra. You'll be forever missed.
We gather here today to honor the memory of Ms. Davies, a woman who redefined what it meant to be a teacher. She wasn't just a treasure trove of facts and figures but a sculptor of potential, an artist who helped us discover the unique masterpieces within ourselves.
Steven Spielberg said, "The delicate balance of mentoring someone is not creating them in your own image, but allowing them to create themselves." Ms. Davies embodied this philosophy with superhuman dedication.
Unlike others who presented a singular path to success, Ms. Davies reveled in the messiness of individual exploration. I'll never forget the day I stumbled into her classroom, a shy freshman with a head full of daydreams and a heart brimming with an undefined passion for writing. Most teachers would have steered me toward classic literature analysis, but Ms. Davies saw something different.
She saw the spark of storytelling, a spark she nurtured by encouraging me to write science fiction short stories — a genre I devoured but never dared to create. With gentle nudges, she helped me craft a universe filled with rogue AIs and sentient planets, a world where my love for science and storytelling collided in a magnificent explosion of creativity.
That story, eventually published in the school's literary magazine, became the launching pad for my writing career, a testament to Ms. Davies' belief in the power of unconventional dreams. Ms. Davies' classroom was a sanctuary where individuality thrived. We weren't cogs in a learning machine but explorers on a grand adventure of self-discovery.
She celebrated the budding mathematician who preferred solving equations through origami folds, and championed the aspiring musician who found solace in composing tunes on an off-tune old keyboard. Her classroom was a zoo of diverse talents, each one nurtured and encouraged to reach its full potential.
Ms. Davies leaves behind a legacy far greater than any standardized test score. She leaves behind a legacy of empowered lives because of her belief that education wasn't about uniformity, but about cultivating the unique potential within each student.
We, her students, carry her lessons forward, forever grateful for the impact she had on our lives. Her spirit of exploration, her rock-solid support for the unconventional, and her dedication to nurturing the artist within will continue to inspire us to create our own masterpieces, a fitting tribute to the teacher who helped us discover the art of becoming ourselves.
Psalm 23:4 says, "Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me."
We’re here to honor the life and legacy of Reverend Thomas. His absence leaves a painful mark in our church, on our streets, and most importantly, in our hearts. But his life left us blessings — so many blessings. We could count them all day.
His booming laugh and kind smile weren't confined to these hallowed halls. They echoed through the town. Reverend Thomas wasn't a man who preached from a distance. He walked beside us, his hand outstretched in fellowship, sharing in our joys and sorrows with the grace God gave him.
Many of us can recall pivotal moments where Reverend Thomas played a crucial role. I’m standing here today because my family and I have been recipients of his leadership and kindness on more occasions than I can count.
I remember him cradling Sarah, my firstborn, during her baby dedication. His gentle voice calmed her, and his words, filled with love and hope, resonated through the church, a blessing that carries on even today. Years later, he stood beside Sarah and Michael on their wedding day as he officiated and blessed their marriage.
And when the unthinkable happened, when John, our dear friend, lost his wife in that terrible accident, Reverend Thomas was there. He sat with John for hours, a pillar of strength amidst the wreckage of grief. He helped organize the funeral, hosted family in his home, and even helped babysit the kids.
But Reverend Thomas' impact wasn't limited to these momentous occasions. His office door was always open. He was a mentor, a counselor, and a friend to all who sought his wisdom. He understood the power of a kind word, a listening ear, and a simple act of human connection. He volunteered tirelessly at the local soup kitchen, following the directive of Proverbs 19:17: "Whoever is kind to the poor lends to the Lord." He built bridges of faith that transcended denominations, organizing interfaith gatherings and joint community efforts.
Today, a profound silence hangs heavy in the air. But while Reverend Thomas may be gone, his legacy lives on, not in this plaque on the wall, but in the countless lives he touched. He leaves behind a legacy of kindness, compassion, and unyielding faith, an example of a life lived in service of God and his fellow man. We carry his lessons in our hearts — to trust God above all else, to be strong in the midst of trials, to love without counting the cost, and to forgive one another.
Reverend Thomas may no longer walk among us, but I want to remind you that even in our darkest moments, we are not alone. God is with us, just as He was with Reverend Thomas throughout his life.
We gather today not just to honor the legacy of Mayor Henry Jones, but to celebrate the life of a man who truly embodied the spirit of our community. Those who know him will agree — Henry wasn't a far-away, fancy and polished politician, he was one of us. He knew the cracks in our sidewalks, the hidden gems in our local shops, and the dreams that flickered in the eyes of our children.
Many of us remember Henry before he was mayor. He was the guy fixing his porch swing and offering a friendly wave. He was the coach who saw potential in every kid who stepped onto the field. He was the tireless volunteer who organized cleanups and barbeques. Public service wasn't a career choice for Henry, it was an extension of who he was — a man who believed in the power of community and the strength of ordinary citizens that work together.
When Henry became mayor, he didn't see it as a position of power but a responsibility to serve. He wasn't afraid to roll up his sleeves and get his hands dirty. He spent countless hours walking the streets, listening to concerns, and brainstorming solutions with the people he represented.
Sure, there were grand projects under his leadership — the new waterfront, the expansion of our public library, and the creation of after-school programs for underprivileged youth. But Henry understood that a city wasn't just about buildings and programs. It was about the people who filled it with life, laughter, and hope.
He championed initiatives that brought neighbors together — community gardens, street festivals, and town hall meetings that felt more like kitchen table conversations. He believed that a strong community wasn't built from the top down but from the ground up, brick by brick, conversation by conversation.
Today, we grieve the loss of a leader, a friend, and a neighbor. But let's not just mourn his absence, let's celebrate the life he lived and the legacy he leaves behind. Let's continue the conversations he started, let's roll up our sleeves and tackle the challenges he identified, and let's keep the spirit of community he so fiercely nurtured alive.
That's the greatest tribute we can pay to Henry Jones. May his memory be a blessing, and may the city he loved continue to flourish under the care of the community he so diligently built.
Giving a eulogy is a huge honor, a chance to celebrate the life of someone special and offer comfort to those who grieve. While it can be emotionally challenging, a well-delivered eulogy can leave a lasting and positive impact.
Here are some detailed steps to guide you through delivering an effective eulogy:
By following these steps, you can deliver a eulogy that reflects the life and spirit of your loved one. Remember, the most important element is to speak from the heart and share your own unique memories and feelings.
We hope these eulogy examples and writing tips help you navigate the process of writing a beautiful and meaningful eulogy speech for your loved one. We know that navigating this loss is a heavy weight to bear.
Meadow offers a more compassionate and meaningful way to celebrate a life well-lived with affordable, all-inclusive cremation services and customized memorial planning services in the Los Angeles area.
If you consider trusting Meadow Memorials with your loved one, we’re truly grateful. We understand the weight of this moment and the difficulty of these decisions.
Our team of caring memorial planners will partner with you in this tender time to create an occasion as remarkable as the life it honors.
With our licensed team, you can expect:
The Meadow Cremation package includes everything you need for a simple cremation.
Everything you need for a traditional memorial service at one of our partner chapels.
We'll help you create a memory that will last forever at a Beautiful Venue across Los Angeles County.