The need to write a eulogy frequently comes at an unexpected time.
You’re already reeling from a death.
Even if it was expected, it’s still a shock.
And then you have to plan a funeral or memorial service, or sometimes even both.
But if, like me, you’re the writer in the family, everyone turns to look at you.
Go.
What is a eulogy?
According to Wikipedia, a eulogy, eulogia, comes from the classic Greek word eu, for “well or true,”and logia, for “words, text, and praise.”
It’s considered either the spoken or written word praising someone who has recently died or been retired.
(If you’re getting ready to retire and someone volunteers to give a eulogy, don’t gasp!)
Note that word praise.
Who gives the speech and why?
The eulogist generally is a family member or someone close to the departed.
As the family writer, I’ve written too many and given most of them.
I also was honored when the woman who taught me much about being a Navy wife and a mother died a few years ago.
I stepped in several times when an officiant gave a general call, “does anyone else have something to say?”
Those who know me won’t be surprised when I stepped forward. Of course I had something to say.
Usually because I wanted to provide another bit of insight into a person that their family members may have overlooked.
What goes into a eulogy?
Note how I highlighted the word praise.
Rocky relationships with the departed need to be worked out before the person dies.
I often pray for folks lying on their death bed that God will give them the words to say that speak life into their loved ones.
Death is not the time to settle scores.
Make peace in your family before the loved one dies. Work it out, present your side, but leave your family member with the knowledge that while you may have made mistakes, you loved them.
That’s what the family needs to hear. The person who died loved and valued them.
No matter how things stood when the person died.
For that reason– love and the need to feel valued–when someone dies I think about their family. What do they need to hear?
- They were loved.
- This, specifically, is what the deceased appreciated/cherished/enjoyed about each family member.
- I go through the family and tell each one–looking them in the eye–what their mom/dad/grandmother/child appreciated about them.
I may acknowledge challenges in words like this: “your grandfather never really liked the pink hair, but he appreciated your free spirit.”
A good eulogy includes stories–postive stories
I spoke at a WWII Navy veteran’s funeral and told each member of the family how the vet talked about them.
A young adult was puzzled. “How does Mrs. Ule know anything about my grandfather?”
I’d walked around our neighborhood with him for several years, listening to his stories. A proud man, we laughed about the differences in education between UCLA and Cal (where his oldest son went to school).
I’d only met that son once, but 25 years later, I told the story.
That son sat up taller and smiled back at me with a nod when I complained his father always told me about how brilliant his boy was because he went to Cal.
(Opinions will differ between alumni, ncluding in my own family.)
Laughter is fine–and so is audience participation
At my Navy wife mentor’s service, I started with a question. “Raise your hand if you’ve spent the night at Liz’s house.”
Two-thirds of the audience put up their hand. Much laughter.
I was surprised. “How many of you have eaten a meal she made?”
Every hand went up.
I turned to her large smiling picture on the screen behind me and waved. “You’re work is done, Liz. Everyone loved and appreciated you.”
More laughter.
And a lighter mood in the congregation as I told stories of how Liz had changed my life.
At my mom’s funeral, someone told me not to worry if I felt like laughing.
“Laughter is the closest thing to crying,” she said. “It helps.”
She was right.
I also tell people not to worry about crying. “Your tears show how much that person meant to you.”
Talking through grief
I wrote my mother’s eulogy the morning of her funeral.
Her death came as an unexpected shock and, consumed with tears, I was still reeling.
My husband read my words.
When my father died seven years later, we showed a powerpoint presentation full of sadness, laughter, absurdity, affection, and, frankly for my siblings and I, poignancy.
We needed to honor the man he was, not how his life ended.
Sometimes photos will do the job better than our words.
The response to a good eulogy?
If someone cares enough to attend your funeral or memorial service, you meant something to them.
Our Lutheran church periodically had an afternoon to help parishioners plan their memorial services well ahead of time.
My grandmother’s church did the same.
(Unfortunately, my grandmother outlived all the people she hoped would serve as pallbearers, speakers, and singers. Fortunately, she had enough kids and grandkids to fill in the gaps by the time she died at 92).
The goal is to mourn and remember together.
A good eulogy will prompconversation and affectionate memories afterward.
At least, that’s what happened to us.
Tweetables
Thoughts on how to write a eulogy for a funeral or memorial service. Click to Tweet
Eulogy means words of praise. Remember someone accordingly. Click to Tweet
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