A eulogy for Mum
A complete example, followed by a short version, a note on why it works, and the questions that will help you write about your own mum.
Written as if by her daughter, Claire. About 3 minutes read aloud · 405 words. Everyone in it is fictional, written for this page.
Thank you all for coming today. I'm Claire, Pat's daughter, and looking around this room I can see just how many kitchens, school gates and bus stops Mum managed to make friends at.
Mum was born in Salford, the youngest of four, and she used to say that being the youngest taught her two things: how to get a word in, and how to share. She did both for the rest of her life.
She left school at sixteen and worked on the switchboard at the Co-op, which is where she met Dad. He rang the wrong extension three times in one week. She always said she knew by the third call that it was not an accident.
They were married for forty-six years. When Dad died four years ago, a lot of us worried about how she would manage. We need not have. She joined the walking group, took up the ukulele very badly, and started a group chat for the whole street that nobody was allowed to leave.
What I remember most about growing up is the kitchen table. It was where homework got done, where arguments got settled, and where anybody who turned up at teatime got fed, whether they had been invited or not. My friends called her Auntie Pat long after we had all left school, and some of them are here today.
Mum was not a sentimental person. When I told her I was expecting Ellie, she said congratulations and then asked whether I had thought about a proper coat for the winter. But she was the first person at the hospital, she did the school run every Tuesday for eight years, and she never missed a school play, including the one where Ellie was a tree with no lines.
She had her opinions. The only proper tea was a strong one, a thank-you card should be posted and not texted, and anyone who parked across a driveway deserved a note on the windscreen. We have found several drafts of those notes in her handbag.
In the last few months, when she was ill, she was still asking the nurses about their children and remembering their names. That was Mum. Other people came first, right to the end.
Mum, thank you. For the kitchen table, for the Tuesdays, for every coat you told me to buy. We will look after each other, the way you showed us. Goodbye, Mum.
Write yours from your own memories
Answer a few gentle questions and we draft a eulogy from your answers only, to edit and then print in large type or as cue cards. Free.
Write a eulogy for your mumWhy this example works
1. It opens with who is speaking, and a detail about the room
Kitchens, school gates and bus stops tells everyone straight away that this will be about the woman they knew, not a list of virtues.
2. Stories, not adjectives
The switchboard, the street group chat and the Tuesday school runs say kind, sociable and devoted without ever using those words.
3. Humour that belongs to her
The drafts of windscreen notes make the room laugh because they recognise her. Nobody is laughing at her.
4. The illness gets one line
It is acknowledged honestly and used to show who she was, then the eulogy moves on. It is not the most important thing about her.
5. The close speaks to her directly
It thanks her for things mentioned earlier, the table, the Tuesdays, the coat, so the ending ties the whole speech together.
A short eulogy for Mum, from a son
If you only have a minute or two, or several people are speaking, a short eulogy can say just as much. About 0.5 minutes read aloud.
I'm David, and I was lucky enough to be Pat's son. Mum ran our house from the kitchen table. Homework, arguments and anyone who turned up at teatime all ended up there, and nobody left hungry.
She had strong views on tea, thank-you cards and people who park across driveways, and she was right about most of them. When Dad died she did not sit still. She joined the walking group and took up the ukulele, badly and happily.
Mum, thank you for the table and for everything you put on it. Goodbye.
Questions to start your own
Do not copy an example. Borrow its shape, and fill it with your own answers to these. One true, specific memory is worth more than any polished line.
- Where did she grow up, and what did she say about it?
- What room or place do you always picture her in?
- What did she always say, insist on, or refuse to do?
- What did she do for other people that nobody asked her to?
- What would you thank her for, if she were in the room?
The eulogy builder asks questions like these one screen at a time, and our guide covers how to read a eulogy without breaking down.
Common questions
- How do I get through a eulogy for my mum without crying?
- You may cry, and nobody will mind. Print it in large type or speak from cue cards so you can find your place at a glance, read it aloud several times beforehand so the hardest lines are familiar, and give a copy to someone at the front who can carry on if you need them to.
- Should a eulogy for my mum be written by me or by the whole family?
- One person usually speaks, but the best eulogies gather memories from everyone. Ask brothers, sisters and grandchildren for one story each before you write. You can say whose story it is: "My brother remembers...".
