Eulogy Examples for Mom, Dad, Grandma & Grandpa (Plus How to Write Your Own)

Handwritten eulogy pages on a wooden lectern with reading glasses and a single white rose.

If you've been asked to give the eulogy, you're probably feeling two things at once: honored, and terrified. How do you fit a whole life into a few minutes? How do you get the words out when you can barely hold yourself together?

Standing up to speak at a funeral is one of the hardest things anyone is asked to do. But here's what I want you to know: no one in that room is grading you. They loved this person too. They're on your side. Whatever you say from the heart will be enough.

Below is a simple way to write your own, followed by examples you can borrow from, change, and make yours.

In This Guide


How to Write a Eulogy in 5 Steps

Most eulogies run 3 to 5 minutes, which is about 400 to 700 words. Ask the family or officiant how long you have.

  1. Start with who you are to them. "For those who don't know me, I'm Sarah, Linda's oldest daughter."
  2. Pick two or three qualities that made them who they were. Not a full biography, just the heart of them.
  3. Tell a story for each. Stories are what people remember. A small, specific moment says more than a list of accomplishments.
  4. Say what they taught you or how they changed the people in the room.
  5. Close by speaking to them, or to everyone. A goodbye, a thank-you, or a line they always said.

A helpful tip: Ask family members for one story each before you write. You'll get memories you never knew, and the eulogy will feel like it came from all of you, not just you.

Eulogy for Mom (from a Daughter)

For those who don't know me, I'm [Name], Mom's oldest. I've been trying all week to figure out how to describe her in a few minutes, and I keep coming back to her kitchen table.

That table was where everything happened. It's where she taught me to roll pie crust, where she helped me with homework she didn't understand either, and where she sat across from me at two in the morning after my first heartbreak, with a cup of tea she never drank, just listening.

Mom wasn't loud about love. She showed it. She showed it in packed lunches with notes inside, in the way she remembered every birthday of every neighbor on our street, and in the way she'd show up at your door with a casserole before you even knew you needed one.

She was also stubborn. If you ever tried to help her carry groceries, you know what I mean. She'd say, "I've got it," and somehow, she always did.

The thing she taught me most was that you don't have to have the answers to help someone. You just have to sit down at the table with them.

Mom, I'm going to miss you at that table every single day. But I'll keep setting a place for the people who need it, just like you did. Thank you for everything. I love you.

Eulogy for Dad (from a Son)

I'm [Name], and I was lucky enough to call [Dad's name] my dad.

Dad was a man of few words. If you asked him how he was doing, he'd say, "Can't complain." And he didn't. Not when he worked double shifts for thirty years, not when his back gave out, not even at the end.

But Dad didn't need a lot of words, because he showed up. He showed up to every one of my baseball games, standing along the fence because he couldn't sit still. He showed up when my car broke down on the highway at midnight, still in his slippers. And he showed up for anyone in this town who needed a hand fixing a fence or a furnace, and he never once let them pay him.

He taught me how to change a tire, how to shake a hand, and how to say I was wrong. That last one took him a while to teach, because he didn't get much practice.

I remember asking him once why he worked so hard. He just shrugged and said, "Somebody's got to take care of you knuckleheads." That was Dad's version of "I love you."

Dad, you took care of all of us. Now it's our turn to take care of each other. Can't complain, Dad. We had you.

Eulogy for Grandma (from a Grandchild)

Hi, everyone. I'm [Name], one of Grandma's [number] grandkids. And if you asked any of us, we'd each tell you we were her favorite. That was her magic. She made every single one of us feel that way.

Grandma's house always smelled like cinnamon and coffee. There was always a jar of butterscotch candies on the counter, and somehow it was never empty, no matter how many of us snuck one.

She taught me card games and then beat me at every one of them, with zero mercy. She taught me to plant tomatoes and to talk to them, because she swore they grew better that way. And she taught me that you can say "bless your heart" in about fifteen different tones.

But mostly, Grandma taught me how to love people. She wrote real letters, with stamps. She called on our birthdays and sang the whole song, every verse. She prayed for every one of us by name, every single night.

Grandma, thank you for the candy, the card games, the prayers, and for making all of us feel like the favorite. We'll keep talking to the tomatoes for you. We love you.

Eulogy for Grandpa (from a Grandchild)

I'm [Name], and Grandpa was my fishing buddy, my storyteller, and my hero.

Some of my best memories are from his old truck, bouncing down a dirt road at five in the morning with the radio on and a thermos of coffee that he let me "taste" when Grandma wasn't looking.

Grandpa had a story for everything. Some of them were even true. He told the one about the fish that got away so many times that, by the end, it was the size of a canoe. We all knew it, and we all laughed every time anyway.

But under all the stories, Grandpa was the steadiest person I've ever known. When things went wrong, he never panicked. He'd just say, "Well, let's see what we've got," and get to work.

He taught me patience. You can't rush a fish, and you can't rush a person. He taught me that being kind costs nothing. And he taught me that the best things in life usually happen early in the morning, before anyone else is awake.

Grandpa, I hope the fishing is good where you are. Save me a spot in the boat. I love you.

A Short Eulogy (Under 2 Minutes)

For a graveside service, or if you're only able to say a few words:

I'm [Name], [his/her] [relationship]. If I had to describe [Name] in one word, it would be [word]. [He/She] showed it every day, in the way [he/she] [a small, specific habit]. [Name] taught me [a lesson], and I'll carry that with me for the rest of my life. [Name], thank you for loving us so well. We will miss you more than words can say.

Tips for Delivering a Eulogy

  • Print it in large type, 16 to 18 point, double-spaced. Tears make small print impossible to read.
  • Practice out loud at least twice. You'll find the spots that catch in your throat, and they'll be easier on the day.
  • It's okay to cry. Pause, breathe, take a sip of water. Everyone will wait for you.
  • Have a backup. Give a copy to someone you trust who can step in and finish if you can't.
  • Look up a few times, especially at the people who loved them most.

From experience: Families often want to keep the eulogy afterward. Consider adding it to the funeral program as a tribute page, or saving it to print and frame later. Years from now, those words will mean even more.

More Help

Putting the Program Together?

If you're also helping with the funeral program, our Canva-editable funeral program templates make it simple, or our Done-For-You Service can build it for you, including a tribute page for the eulogy. You fill everything in online, and we send you a print-ready digital file.


These eulogy examples were written exclusively for Noted & Charmed by C. Lindorfer. You're welcome to use and adapt them for a personal memorial service. © Noted & Charmed. Not for commercial use, republication, or resale.

You don't have to say it perfectly. You just have to say it with love. — Noted & Charmed

Please note: The articles and free printables on Noted & Charmed are general information and comfort resources. They are not medical, mental health, legal, or financial advice, and are not a substitute for help from a qualified professional. If you or someone you love is in crisis, call or text 988, or call 911.