Eulogy for a friend: examples, a template, and what to say

Eulogy for a childhood best friend

My name is Eric. Todd and I met when we were six, on the first day of first grade, when he traded me his pudding cup for my apple and then told everyone it was my idea. That was forty years ago. I've been getting the short end of Todd's deals ever since, and I'd take every one of them again.

Todd's family, I know you knew him as a son, a brother, a husband, a dad. I want to tell you a little about the Todd I knew, the one who rode bikes with me until the streetlights came on, and who never once grew up as much as everyone hoped.

When we were sixteen, we drove to the coast in his dad's pickup to watch the sun come up. We got lost, ran out of gas, and watched the sunrise from the shoulder of a highway outside Aberdeen, sitting on the tailgate, eating gas station donuts. He said, "Honestly, this is better than the beach." It wasn't. But he meant it, and somehow, because he meant it, it was.

That was Todd's gift. He could make any situation feel like the right place to be. He did it at weddings, at hospital bedsides, and at my dad's funeral, where he showed up with a cooler of sandwiches and stayed until the last folding chair was put away.

He loved Tina. He loved his boys, Caleb and Luke, and talked about them so much that I sometimes felt I knew their soccer stats better than my own kids'. He loved a bad sunrise, a good burger, and the people around him.

Todd, I'm still a little lost without you. But I'm going to try to do what you would do: sit on the tailgate, look around, and find a reason this is the right place to be. Thank you for forty years of bad trades. They were the best deals I ever made.

A sample we wrote by hand. The people in it are made up. Yours is written from your own stories.

Eulogy for a best friend from college

Hi, everyone. I'm Heather, and Amber was my best friend.

We met in a dorm laundry room our first week of college. I was crying over a sweater I'd shrunk to the size of a doll's, and Amber walked over, held it up, and said, "Well, now it fits your dignity." I laughed so hard I forgot to be homesick. We were friends from that minute on.

Amber was fierce. She was the friend who'd tell you the truth when everyone else was being polite. When I was about to take a job I didn't want, she sat on my kitchen floor and asked me one question: "Would you be proud of this in five years?" I turned it down. She was right. She usually was, and she never once said "I told you so," although she would raise one eyebrow, which was worse.

She was also the most loyal person I've ever known. She remembered your mother's surgery date. She drove three hours for your birthday. She sent you a card when your dog died, with a drawing of the dog that was, I'm sorry to say, terrible, and I still have it on my refrigerator.

To Amber's parents, Rick and Sharon, and her brother, Kyle: thank you for sharing her with all of us. So many people in this room had an Amber in their corner. That's because of you.

Amber, I don't know who's going to tell me the truth now. I'll try to ask myself your question. And I'll keep the dog drawing on the fridge. I love you.

A sample we wrote by hand. The people in it are made up. Yours is written from your own stories.

Eulogy for a friend from work

Good afternoon. My name is Carlos. Dave and I worked together at the plant for nineteen years, on the same shift, at stations about thirty feet apart.

You learn a lot about someone in nineteen years of early mornings. I learned that Dave drank his coffee black, out of the same dented thermos his wife, Peggy, gave him in 1998. I learned he could fix anything with a roll of tape and a little patience. And I learned that if you were having a bad day, he'd notice before you did.

When my son was born early and spent a month in the hospital, Dave covered half my shifts without telling me. I found out from the supervisor. When I tried to thank him, he just said, "You'd do the same." Then he handed me a cup of coffee from that thermos, which is the closest Dave ever came to a speech.

Dave wasn't a big talker. He didn't need to be. He showed up, he did the work right, and he looked out for the people next to him. There are a lot of us in this room who were the people next to him.

Peggy, Jen, and Brian: he talked about you every single day. About Jen's new job, about Brian's truck, about your garden, Peggy. You were his favorite subject.

Dave, the shift won't be the same. Thank you for the coffee, the covered shifts, and for always looking out. We'll take it from here.

A sample we wrote by hand. The people in it are made up. Yours is written from your own stories.

Short eulogy for a friend

I'm Kim, and Joanne was my friend for fifteen years. We met in a Tuesday morning walking group, and after the first month, it was just the two of us, walking and talking our way through two retirements, four grandchildren, and one very stubborn knee.

Joanne listened better than anyone I've known. She remembered everything, and she always asked the next question.

Joanne, I'll keep walking on Tuesdays. Save me a spot.

A sample we wrote by hand. The people in it are made up. Yours is written from your own stories.