Writing Obituaries That Actually Get Read
I have written over two hundred obituaries for people I barely knew and people I loved. The ones that stick are not the ones padded with floral language. They are the ones that tell someone what it actually felt like to sit across from the dead at a dinner table. Here is how I handle it when a family needs something written fast and right. The first mistake I see families make is treating the obituary like a resume. They list dates, job titles, and organizations in a flat line until the reader zones out. I recommend starting with the concrete detail instead. Did the person collect vintage clocks? Did they make a terrible cup of coffee every morning regardless of how good the beans were? That is what survives. The rest is background noise.
Sjr Obituary Honoring The Legacy And Impact Of A Life Remembered
When families come to me asking for help with SJR Obituary Honoring The Legacy And Impact Of A Life Remembered, what they usually mean is they want something that reads like a person and not a press release. The trick is knowing what to leave out. Most people include three paragraphs of generic praise. I cut it down to one tight paragraph with three specific memories. The rest goes into a separate memorial page if the family wants it. Funeral homes get enough filler material. I had a case last year where the deceased was a retired welder who also happened to write an obscure poetry blog with forty-seven followers. The family wanted to mention both. I wrote the welding credentials in one sentence and then spent the rest of the piece on the poems and the way he read them aloud at family gatherings. The response from his poetry readers was overwhelming. They showed up at the funeral because the obituary told them he existed as a full person. Including both aspects in a balanced way is harder than it sounds. You end up with something that feels disjointed if you are not careful. I use a transition sentence that ties the two together with a single concrete image. In that case it was "He welded steel all day and wrote verses all night." It works because it is factual and it sets the rhythm for the rest of the piece. Another common error is the death line. "Passed away peacefully surrounded by family" is the most overused sentence in the English language. It tells the reader nothing. When was he surrounded by family? What did peaceful look like for him? I replace it with a single scene or a direct quote from the family. Sometimes I just state the facts: "He died on a Tuesday morning after a short illness, still wearing the robe his wife knitted him." That sentence does more emotional work than three paragraphs of adjectives.
The structure I use almost always follows this pattern. Opening hook with a specific detail. A single paragraph on the broad strokes of the person's life. Two or three paragraphs of actual stories that show character. A brief practical section with service details. A closing line that is not sentimental but grounded. I never use the words "at peace," "angel," or "walked across the rainbow bridge" unless the family explicitly asks for religious or spiritual framing. Those phrases age poorly and they flatten the personality. If you are working with a funeral home template, expect to fight them on content length. They prefer generic copy because it prints faster and requires less editing. I tell families to ask for a word count of four to six hundred words minimum. Anything less and you are leaving people hungry. Anything more than eight hundred and most readers stop halfway through. Print editions charge by the line, so families with budget constraints should prioritize digital first and then select the single best paragraph for the paper version. There are legitimate downsides to the modern obituary process. Social media posts replace printed obituaries for younger demographics, which means important information gets lost in algorithmic feeds. Memorial websites like Everlegacy and Legacy.com generate decent templates but they default to bland corporate phrasing. You have to manually override every suggestion. Local newspapers are increasingly charging more for longer pieces, so families end up cutting content rather than expanding it.
Get the Full Details
The workaround I recommend is simple. Draft the full obituary yourself on a word processor. Get it to seven hundred words with all the detail and stories intact. Then create a shorter version for the newspaper at five hundred words. Post the complete version on a memorial page or social media. This way the paper gets its space-efficient piece and the internet gets the real thing. Nobody wins if everyone only sees the abbreviated version. I also suggest collecting quotes from at least three people who knew the deceased before you start writing. One from a sibling, one from a coworker or friend, and one from a child or grandchild if applicable. These voices keep the piece from sounding like it came from a single perspective. A obituary that only reflects the family's view misses the full picture of the person's life. The tone matters more than people realize. If the deceased had a dry sense of humor, the obituary should reflect that. If they were serious and formal, lean into that. Matching the voice of the dead person to the voice of the writing is the hardest part of this work. I usually listen to voicemails or read old texts to get a feel for how they spoke. You can almost hear their cadence in your head if you pay attention long enough.
Finally, always have the family review the draft twice. Once for factual accuracy and once for emotional tone. Factual errors in obituaries are common and they cause genuine distress. Wrong spouse names, incorrect dates, missing children. The second review catches the tone issues before publication. I once caught a draft that accidentally implied the deceased was estranged from a sibling when they were actually very close. That alone would have caused a family rift. Getting it right takes two looks minimum and you should never skip either one.
