How to Write a Eulogy When the Relationship Was Difficult

You can write an honest eulogy for someone you had a difficult relationship with. You do not have to pretend it was perfect, and you do not have to air everything that went wrong. The goal is to find something true you can say with a clear conscience, something that honours the complicated reality without turning the funeral into a place of conflict.

If you are here, it probably means you are carrying more than grief. You may be carrying anger, guilt, relief, confusion, or all of them at once. That is normal. And it does not disqualify you from standing up and saying something meaningful.

Table of Contents

• Why is this so much harder than a normal eulogy?
• What are you actually allowed to say?
• How do you acknowledge the difficulty without making it the whole eulogy?
• What if there are almost no good memories?
• What if the problem was addiction?
• What does a difficult relationship eulogy sound like?
• What if you do not want to give the eulogy at all?
• Frequently Asked Questions

Why is this so much harder than a normal eulogy?

Because a normal eulogy draws on love and good memories. When the relationship was difficult, those things may be scarce, mixed with pain, or buried under years of distance. You are not just writing a speech. You are trying to figure out what you actually feel, in real time, while other people are watching.

There is also the pressure of the room. Some people there may have had a completely different experience of this person. They may have known the charming version, the generous version, the version that showed up for everyone except you. That can feel isolating.

"People kept telling me what a wonderful man he was. And I thought: yes, I'm sure he was. I just didn't get that version."

That kind of private thought is something many people in your position carry. The eulogy does not need to resolve it. It just needs to be something you can live with afterward.

What are you actually allowed to say?

More than you think. A eulogy does not have to be a celebration. It can be an honest reflection. The room will respect honesty far more than a performance of grief you do not feel.

Here are some things that are completely appropriate to say:

• That the relationship was complicated
• That you did not always understand each other
• That there were good moments mixed in with difficult ones
• That you wish things had been different
• That you are still figuring out how you feel
• That despite everything, there was something between you that mattered

What is not appropriate is using the eulogy to settle scores, to blame, or to make the room uncomfortable on purpose. The funeral is not the place for that. But there is a wide space between "he was a wonderful man" and a public reckoning, and that space is where your eulogy lives.

How do you acknowledge the difficulty without making it the whole eulogy?

Name it briefly, honestly, and then move on to whatever is true.

"Dad and I had a complicated relationship. I don't think that will surprise anyone in this room. We didn't always see the world the same way, and there were years when we barely spoke. But that is not all there was. And today I want to talk about the parts that were real, even if they were small."

That does the work in four sentences. It tells the room the truth. It makes no apology. And it opens the door to whatever you want to say next, whether that is a single good memory, a quality you respected, or simply an acknowledgment of the role this person played in your life.

"Our relationship was not easy. I spent a long time being angry about that. But standing here today, what I keep coming back to is a Saturday afternoon when I was about nine. He took me fishing. We didn't catch anything. We barely talked. But he was there, and I was there, and for a few hours it was simple. I've held onto that afternoon for thirty years."

You do not need many moments. One honest one is enough.

What if there are almost no good memories?

Then the eulogy can be very short. You can speak about what you wish had been different. You can speak about what this person meant to other people in the room, even if your own experience was different. You can speak about what their life taught you, even if the lessons were hard ones.

"I won't pretend we were close. We weren't. But I know that some of you in this room loved her deeply, and I can see that love in your faces today. I respect that. And I think it says something important about her, that she was capable of giving to others what she couldn't always give to me."

That is generous without being dishonest. It honours the room's experience without pretending yours was the same.

"He taught me things, though not always in the way a father is supposed to. He taught me that people are complicated. He taught me that you can love someone and be hurt by them at the same time. He taught me, eventually, that forgiveness is not a single moment but something you do over and over again. I'm still working on it."

What if the problem was addiction?

Addiction complicates grief in a particular way, because you are often grieving two people: the person they were before, and the person the addiction turned them into. Both of those people were real.

You do not need to name the addiction directly. But you can acknowledge it without shame.

"Mum fought a battle that most people in this room knew about, even if we didn't always talk about it. It took a lot from her, and it took a lot from us. But it did not take everything. She was still the woman who sang in the car with the windows down. She was still the woman who remembered every birthday. The illness took years from us, but it did not erase who she was underneath."

If you want to name it directly, you can. Some families find it a relief when someone says the thing out loud.

"Dad was an alcoholic. That is a fact, not a judgment. It shaped our family in ways we are still untangling. But he was also the man who built the tree house in the garden, who knew every bird by its call, who could make anyone laugh in the first five minutes of meeting them. Both things are true. I'm learning to hold them together."

What does a difficult relationship eulogy sound like?

It sounds honest. It sounds careful. It does not sound like a template.

"I have been dreading this. Not because I didn't want to speak, but because I didn't know what to say that was both true and fair. She was my mother. That sentence carries more weight than I can explain to anyone who had a simple relationship with theirs. We had good years and bad years and years where we had nothing at all. What I can tell you today is that I am here. I showed up. And I think, in the end, that is what she would have wanted."

Notice what that does. It does not pretend. It does not perform. It names the difficulty without going into detail. And it ends on something real: I showed up. The room understands what that means.

What if you do not want to give the eulogy at all?

You do not have to. There is no rule that says a child must eulogise a parent, or that a family member must speak at all. If giving the eulogy would cause you more pain than not giving it, you are allowed to say no.

You can ask someone else to speak. You can write something and have someone else read it. You can attend the funeral and say nothing publicly while grieving in your own way privately.

If you do want to say something but cannot face the room, writing it down and having a trusted person read it on your behalf is a completely valid option. Many people do this even when the relationship was straightforward, simply because the emotion is too much.

If you want help shaping your thoughts into something you can stand behind, EulogyCraft can help. You share what you remember and how you feel, and we shape it into three different eulogies. You choose the one that feels right, or you don't use any of them. There is no pressure either way.

Frequently Asked Questions

Is it okay to say the relationship was difficult?

Yes. The room already knows. Pretending otherwise can feel more uncomfortable than the truth. A brief, honest acknowledgment ("we didn't always find it easy") is enough. You do not need to explain or justify.

What if other family members want me to say only positive things?

This is common. You can listen to their wishes and still be honest. You do not have to include anything that feels like a lie. A eulogy built on one genuine memory is better than a eulogy full of nice words you don't believe.

Should I mention abuse or neglect?

The funeral is generally not the place for detailed accounts of abuse. But you can acknowledge pain without describing it. "Our relationship was shaped by things I'm still processing" is honest without being graphic. If you need to speak about it fully, that is better done privately, with a therapist or trusted friend.

How short can a eulogy be?

As short as you need it to be. Even two or three minutes is a eulogy. Standing up and saying one true thing about this person, even just "this was complicated, and I'm still figuring it out, but I'm here," is enough.

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Written by Karel, founder of EulogyCraft and Gentle Tributes. Karel has helped families find the right words for over ten years.