Finding Inspiration for a Eulogy. Where to Look When the Words Are Not Coming

The best inspiration for a eulogy is not a famous quote or a poem. It is the thing you keep thinking about when your mind drifts back to the person you lost. The small, stubborn detail that will not leave you alone. Maybe it is the way they answered the phone, or what their kitchen smelled like, or the face they made when they were pretending not to laugh. That detail is your eulogy trying to tell you where to start.

If you are sitting in front of a blank page and nothing is coming, that does not mean you have nothing to say. It means grief is getting in the way. This guide will show you where to look, what to ask, and how to turn scattered memories into something you can stand up and say. If you are also weighing up whether to write it yourself or get help, our comparison of AI vs traditional eulogy writing lays out your options.

Table of Contents

• Why is it so hard to find the right words?
• Where do you look for inspiration?
• How do photographs help?
• What can other people tell you?
• What about their things?
• How do you turn inspiration into actual sentences?
• What if nothing is working?
• Frequently Asked Questions

Why is it so hard to find the right words?

Because grief puts a fog over your memory. The person you loved is right there in your mind, but when you try to reach for something specific, it slips away. You know exactly who they were. You just cannot get it onto the page.

This is normal. It is not a reflection of how much you loved them or how well you knew them. It is what grief does to a brain that is exhausted, shocked, and running on very little sleep.

The trick is not to sit and wait for inspiration to arrive. It is to go looking for it in specific places. Inspiration for a eulogy almost never comes from staring at a blank page. It comes from opening a drawer, looking at a photograph, or picking up the phone and asking someone a question.

Where do you look for inspiration?

Start with what is around you. The inspiration for a eulogy is rarely in your head. It is in the physical world the person left behind.

• Their house. What is on the kitchen counter? What is stuck to the fridge? What does the front room look like?
• Their car. What is in the glove box? What station is the radio set to? Is there a parking ticket they never paid?
• Their wardrobe. The coat they wore everywhere. The shoes that were falling apart but they refused to replace. The scarf someone gave them that they never took off.
• Their phone. The last few messages they sent. The photos they took. The apps they used most.
• Their habits. What they did first thing in the morning. What they watched on television. What they ate when nobody was looking.

Any of these things can become the starting point of a eulogy. You are not looking for something dramatic. You are looking for something that was so completely them that nobody else could claim it.

"I opened his bedside drawer looking for his watch, and I found three half-eaten packets of mints, a torch that didn't work, and a folded newspaper clipping from 2014 about a local cricket match. That drawer was the most him thing I have ever seen. I used it as the opening of the eulogy."

"Her fridge had six different types of mustard in it. Six. I don't even know where you buy that many types of mustard. But that was her. She had opinions about condiments. Strong ones. The room laughed when I mentioned it, and then half of them started crying, because it was so perfectly her."

How do photographs help?

Photographs are useful, but not in the way you might expect. The posed photographs from big occasions are usually the least helpful. Everyone looks the same at a wedding or a birthday party. Smiling, dressed up, on their best behaviour.

The photographs that help are the ones taken by accident. The ones in the background. The blurry ones where they did not know they were being photographed.

Look at what is around them in the photograph. What are they wearing? What are they holding? What is their expression? Are they looking at the camera or at something else? These background details are often the ones that bring a person back to life more vividly than the posed shots.

"I found a photograph of Mum at Christmas. She wasn't looking at the camera. She was looking at Dad, who was trying to carve the turkey and making a mess of it. She had this expression on her face, half amused, half exasperated, completely in love. That photograph is the best description of their marriage I have ever seen. I described it in the eulogy and the whole room knew exactly what I meant."

"There's a photo of him in the garden with his sleeves rolled up and a cup of tea balanced on the fence post. He's not smiling. He's just standing there, looking at his tomatoes. That is the most accurate picture of my dad that exists. Forget the wedding photos. That is who he was."

What can other people tell you?

A lot. Often the best eulogy material comes from someone else's memory of the person. You knew them one way. Their friends, their colleagues, their neighbours knew them differently. Those other angles can fill in parts of the picture you did not have.

Ring two or three people and ask them one question: what is the first thing you think of when you think of them?

Do not ask for a long story. Just the first thing. The answer is almost always something small, specific, and useful.

"I rang his oldest friend and asked what he remembered most. He said: 'He always turned up early. To everything. He was the first person at every party, every meeting, every pub night. We used to tease him about it. He said he just liked being there when the room was quiet.' I had never thought about that. But it was completely true."

"My aunt told me that Mum used to ring her every Sunday evening at exactly seven o'clock. Not a minute before, not a minute after. They talked for twenty minutes every week for thirty years. I had no idea. That one detail said more about her loyalty than anything I could have come up with on my own."

What about their things?

Objects carry memory in a way that thoughts sometimes cannot. If you are struggling to find words, go and hold something that belonged to them. A book they read. A tool they used. A piece of jewellery they wore every day. A mug they always drank from.

The object will not give you a script. But it will often give you a feeling, and that feeling is usually the beginning of a sentence worth saying.

"I picked up his reading glasses from the kitchen table. They were smudged, as always. He never cleaned them. I used to tell him he couldn't possibly see anything through those lenses. He'd say, 'I can see everything I need to see.' I used that line in the eulogy. It got the biggest reaction of the whole speech."

"She had a recipe book that was held together with an elastic band. Pages falling out, covered in stains, notes in the margins in her handwriting. I opened it to a random page and there was a recipe for lemon cake with a note that said 'Tom's favourite, double the icing.' Tom is my son. He's fifteen. He didn't even know she made that cake for him specifically. He does now."

How do you turn inspiration into actual sentences?

Take the detail you have found and ask yourself two questions. First: what does this say about who they were? Second: why does it matter to me?

You do not need to answer those questions in the eulogy. Just knowing the answers will help you write with purpose instead of drifting.

The detail about the reading glasses says he was stubborn, practical, and had a dry sense of humour. The detail about the recipe book says she paid quiet attention to the people she loved. You do not need to explain that. Tell the story and the room will understand.

Write the detail down as a paragraph. Do not worry about where it fits in the eulogy. Just get it on the page. Do the same with one or two more details. Then read them back and you will see the shape of the eulogy forming on its own. Two or three good details, honestly told, is a eulogy.

What if nothing is working?

If you have tried everything and the page is still blank, give yourself permission to ask for help. Talk to someone. Tell them what you are struggling with. Sometimes saying it out loud unlocks something that writing alone cannot.

You can also use a tool like EulogyCraft. You answer questions about the person, sharing whatever you remember, and we shape your answers into three complete eulogies. The questionnaire is designed to draw out exactly the kind of details this guide is about. Sometimes the right questions are all you need to find the words.

Frequently Asked Questions

What if I only have one memory that stands out?

One memory is enough. A eulogy built around a single, specific moment can be more powerful than one that tries to cover a whole life. Tell that one memory well and the room will feel the person in it.

Can I use something the person wrote as inspiration?

Yes. A letter, an email, a text message, a note in a birthday card. Their own words can be a very powerful starting point. You do not need to read the whole thing aloud. You can describe it, quote a line from it, or use it as the foundation for what you want to say.

How long should I spend looking for inspiration before I start writing?

Twenty minutes is usually enough. Set a timer, look through photographs or objects or make a phone call, and write down whatever comes. Do not wait for the perfect detail. Start with what you have and the rest will follow.

What if I find something that makes me too emotional to use?

Use it. The details that make you cry are usually the ones that make the best eulogies. The emotion is not a problem. It is the whole point. If you are worried about getting through it on the day, have a backup reader ready.