Eulogies Don't Need a Dress Code

Have you ever actually sat with the question of what your legacy will be?

It sounds like a strange thing to sit with out of nowhere. But in my line of work, it comes up constantly, because how someone imagines being remembered says a lot about how they're actually living right now. A begin-at-the-end kind of exercise.

I promise this isn't as morbid as it sounds. Okay, it's a little morbid. Keep going anyway.

You cannot leave this world without leaving a legacy. That's just not optional, no matter how hard you try to sneak out unnoticed. A legacy isn't a hospital wing with your name engraved on it, and it was never reserved for the wealthy or the famous. Your legacy is simply the lives you touched, which is a much lower bar than a building, and also a much higher one.

Maybe your legacy is something as simple as your sunny disposition, the big smile, the kind word, the hug that actually meant something. Maybe it's the Dad joke you told one too many times, or the silly dance move that could turn around anyone's bad day. Maybe your legacy is that people knew they could call you, always, and you'd actually pick up. That you were generous with your time, your talents, or your money, without keeping score.

The big accomplishments and grand gestures look flashier on paper. But I'm convinced the real wealth of a legacy is built in connection. In loving and being loved. In showing up for people in small, meaningful, unglamorous ways, over and over.

The Life Review

One tool we death doulas use to help clients define their own legacy is called a Life Review, a set of questions designed to help someone see the actual impact of their life, the beauty they got to experience, and the wisdom they collected along the way.

It's a genuinely beautiful exercise, and you don't have to be dying to do it. Grab a journal and sit with these questions for yourself. If something surfaces that you'd want to change, well, there's no better time to start than right now.

What experiences of being alive have you enjoyed the most? Think favourite smells, tastes, sensations, toes in the ocean, a cozy blanket by the fire.
Who are your most meaningful relationships, mentors, friends, the people who actually shaped you?
Who did you love? Pets absolutely count here.
What's your message to the world, the one thing you'd put on a billboard if you had to?
What are you most proud of?
What phrases or expressions did you find yourself saying constantly?
What did each decade actually teach you, your 20s, your 30s, your 40s?
What decisions ended up mattering the most? Quitting that job, taking that trip, ending that relationship.
What were you genuinely passionate about?
How did you actually spend your free time?
How did you handle life's hardest moments?
When people describe you, what do you hope they say?

From Life Review to Eulogy

Here's the useful part: a Life Review can become the foundation for a eulogy, and you don't have to leave that entirely in someone else's hands. You can write your own. Include exactly what you want people to remember, the causes you fought for, the work that actually mattered to you. Writing it yourself means you control the narrative instead of hoping someone else gets it right.

Most of us have sat through the kind of obituary or eulogy that reads like a form letter, technically accurate, completely lifeless, the human equivalent of reading someone's LinkedIn out loud at a funeral. Eulogies don't have to be that. They can be creative, specific, touching, and genuinely, deliberately funny, the good kind of funny, not the kind where everyone's nervously checking if it's allowed. (Psst. It's allowed. I've laughed next to an open casket myself and don't regret it.)

Things worth including: the epic fails alongside the triumphant wins. Favourite trips and adventures. Catchphrases people can practically hear in their head. Strong opinions, good or bad, they held onto. The joy, the heartbreak, the quirks, the running family jokes. What they loved as a kid. Beloved pets. Teams they cheered for or played on. What they studied and what actually lit them up about it. Legendary stories from college. Jobs that shaped them. Passions and hobbies. What family, chosen or biological, actually meant to them. The stories they told over and over. Their values, shown in action rather than just described. The advice they handed down. Their favourite food, movies, music, holidays, quotes.

If the relationship was a hard one, it's okay to acknowledge that honestly without making it the whole story. Nobody is only the sum of their worst moments. Collecting memories from other family and friends beforehand, and listening for the themes that keep repeating, is often the fastest way to find the real shape of who someone was.

Delivering the Eulogy

Being asked to give a eulogy is a real honour, and a terrifying one if public speaking and crowds aren't your thing. A few things that help:

Start by introducing yourself and how you knew the person. Nobody wants to spend the first two minutes wondering who you even are.
Use the rule of three, three stories, three memories, three accomplishments, or three defining traits, to keep the structure simple enough that grief-brain can still follow along.
Say something specific about the major people in their life.
Aim for four to seven minutes, and actually practice it out loud beforehand, ideally not for the first time at the podium.
Give yourself grace if your emotions run high while delivering it. You will not be the only one crying, and honestly, if nobody cries, something's gone wrong.
Go for a conversational tone, soft heart, easy voice, nothing performed.
Do a full read-through with a trusted friend before the day itself. It helps more than you'd expect, and it's the difference between "beautifully shaky" and "accidentally reading the wrong page twice."

For most of us, the legacy we'll leave and the stories that will eventually be told about us are still being written, right now, in real time. Which makes this a genuinely good moment to look back and notice how far you've already come, and to keep building a life you'll actually be proud of when it's someone else's turn to stand up and talk about you.