How to Write an Obituary: Crafting Final Words That Honor a Life
Death notices in local newspapers used to be simple affairs—a name, some dates, maybe a line about surviving family members. But somewhere along the way, obituaries transformed into something far more profound. They became the last story we tell about someone, a final narrative that attempts to capture an entire human existence in a few hundred words. Writing one feels like trying to pour an ocean into a teacup.
I've written more obituaries than I care to count, both professionally and for people I've loved. Each time, I'm struck by the weight of the task. You're not just listing facts; you're creating a permanent record of someone's time on Earth. It's an honor, really, but also terrifying. What if you leave out something important? What if the words fall flat when they should sing?
The Weight of Words in Grief
Most people come to obituary writing in the worst possible state—freshly grieving, emotionally raw, facing a blank page that seems to mock their pain. The funeral director hands you a form or points you to a website, and suddenly you're expected to summarize your mother's 87 years or your brother's too-short 42.
The pressure can be paralyzing. I remember sitting at my kitchen table after my grandmother died, staring at my laptop screen for what felt like hours. How do you begin to describe someone who taught you to make pie crust by feel, who could diagnose car trouble by sound alone, who sent birthday cards to every single grandchild without fail for decades? The cursor blinked at me, waiting.
What I've learned is that obituaries serve multiple purposes, and understanding these can help guide your writing. Yes, they announce a death and provide funeral information. But they also celebrate a life, preserve memories, connect communities, and offer comfort to the grieving. They're historical documents, genealogical records, and love letters all rolled into one.
Starting With the Essentials
Every obituary needs certain basic information, and starting with these facts can help overcome that initial paralysis. Think of it as building a skeleton that you'll flesh out with personality and stories.
The full name comes first—not just what everyone called them, but their legal name, including maiden names or nicknames in quotation marks. Margaret "Peggy" Sullivan (née O'Brien) tells a fuller story than just Peggy Sullivan. Then come the dates: birth and death, though some families prefer phrases like "passed away peacefully" or "left this world" to soften the blow.
Location matters too. Where did they die? Where did they live? These details help people make connections—"Oh, that's the Mrs. Sullivan who lived on Maple Street" or "I didn't know Bob was originally from Detroit."
Next comes the cause of death, though this is entirely optional and deeply personal. Some families find comfort in transparency: "after a courageous battle with cancer" or "suddenly, due to a car accident." Others prefer privacy. There's no right answer here, only what feels appropriate for your family and community.
The Art of the Life Summary
After the basics comes the real challenge: summarizing a life. This is where obituaries move from announcement to art form. The best ones don't just list accomplishments like a résumé; they paint a picture of a person.
I once read an obituary that began: "Janet Morrison could make friends with a fence post and probably did." In one sentence, you knew exactly who Janet was—warm, outgoing, never met a stranger. That's the goal: capturing essence, not just existence.
Consider organizing this section chronologically, but don't feel bound by it. Sometimes a thematic approach works better. Maybe your father's life revolved around three passions: his family, his woodworking, and the Chicago Cubs. Structure the obituary around those themes rather than marching through decades.
Include education and career, but make them human. Instead of "John worked at General Motors for 35 years," try "John spent 35 years at General Motors, where he was known for his elaborate practical jokes and his willingness to mentor young engineers." See the difference? One tells us what John did; the other tells us who John was.
Family Connections and Relationships
The survivor section often feels like a minefield. Who gets listed? In what order? What about ex-spouses, estranged children, or chosen family?
Traditional order goes: spouse, children (with their spouses), grandchildren, great-grandchildren, parents, siblings. But traditions are just guidelines. I've seen beautiful obituaries that list "her chosen family of fellow artists" or "his brothers in recovery who became his truest friends." The key is being inclusive while respecting relationships and family dynamics.
One practical tip: when listing survivors, include their locations. "Survived by daughter Sarah (Tom) Jenkins of Portland, Oregon" helps distant relatives and old friends make connections and possibly reconnect.
Don't forget those who predeceased your loved one. There's something deeply moving about reading "She was reunited with her beloved husband Charles, who preceded her in death by ten years." It acknowledges the fullness of a life that included loss and endurance.
Beyond the Formula: Making It Personal
Here's where you can really let someone's personality shine through. Did your aunt collect ceramic frogs? Mention it. Did your grandfather insist on wearing bow ties every day, even to mow the lawn? That's obituary gold.
I particularly love when families include quotes. My friend's mother's obituary included her favorite saying: "If you can't say something nice, come sit by me." In six words, you understood her wicked sense of humor and honesty.
Consider including:
- Favorite sayings or catchphrases
- Hobbies that defined them
- Quirks that made them memorable
- Acts of kindness they were known for
- Challenges they overcame
- Values they lived by
But here's a crucial point: you don't need to sanitize or sanctify. If Uncle Frank was cantankerous but loveable, say so. "Frank never met an opinion he didn't share forcefully, but his gruff exterior hid a heart that would give you his last dollar." Authenticity honors the dead more than false perfection.
The Delicate Balance of Tone
Obituaries don't have to be relentlessly solemn. If someone lived with joy and humor, their obituary can reflect that. I've read obituaries that made me laugh out loud—intentionally. One began: "Bill Brown has finally done something on time for once in his life."
That said, humor requires a deft touch. It should feel natural to who the person was, not forced or inappropriate. When in doubt, run it by other family members. What strikes one person as a loving tribute might offend another.
The tone should match the person and the circumstances. A 95-year-old who died peacefully in her sleep after a life well-lived calls for a different tone than a young parent taken by illness. Both deserve dignity, but the emotional register will differ.
Practical Matters and Modern Considerations
Today's obituaries face challenges our grandparents never imagined. Social media means news travels fast—sometimes faster than family notifications. Consider having a plan for online announcements that coordinates with the newspaper obituary.
Length matters too, especially since many newspapers charge by the word or line. The days of sprawling, multi-column obituaries are largely gone unless you're willing to pay premium prices. This forces hard choices about what to include. My advice? Write the full version first, then edit down. You can always post the longer version online or print it for the funeral service.
Speaking of online, many funeral homes now offer digital guest books and memorial pages. These can become beautiful repositories for photos, videos, and memories that wouldn't fit in a traditional obituary. Consider the newspaper obituary as the gateway to these richer digital memorials.
When Professional Help Makes Sense
There's no shame in hiring someone to write an obituary, especially during acute grief. Many funeral directors offer this service, and there are freelance obituary writers who specialize in capturing life stories. They know how to ask the right questions and organize information effectively.
If you go this route, gather stories and details from multiple family members beforehand. The writer can't capture what they don't know. Prepare a list of key accomplishments, favorite memories, and important relationships.
Common Pitfalls to Avoid
Over the years, I've noticed patterns in obituaries that don't quite work. Clichés drain the life from life stories. "Loved by all who knew her" tells us nothing specific. "Could light up a room with her smile" has been used so often it's lost all meaning. Instead, show us how she lit up rooms: "Her unexpected belly laugh could turn a funeral into a party—and once did."
Another issue is the temptation to list every single accomplishment, membership, and award. Unless your loved one was genuinely defined by being recording secretary of the garden club from 1987-1989, consider summarizing: "She was active in numerous community organizations, particularly the Garden Club, where her prize-winning roses were legendary."
Avoid euphemisms that confuse rather than comfort. "Passed into the great beyond" or "became one with the universe" might reflect your beliefs, but they can leave readers puzzled about whether the person actually died. Clarity serves everyone better.
The Final Review
Before submitting an obituary, read it aloud. Does it flow? Does it sound like the person you're describing? Have multiple family members review it—they might catch errors or remember crucial details you forgot.
Check practical information obsessively. Nothing's worse than publishing the wrong funeral time or misspelling a grandchild's name. These errors live forever in newspaper archives and family memories.
Consider the obituary's afterlife too. Newspapers archive these documents, and they become part of genealogical records. Future generations might know your loved one only through these words. What do you want them to understand?
A Living Document
Perhaps the most profound thing I've learned about obituaries is that they're not really for the dead—they're for the living. They help us process grief, celebrate lives, and connect with others who share our loss. They're acts of love disguised as newspaper announcements.
Writing an obituary forces us to consider what matters in a life. Is it the job titles or the kindness shown? The degrees earned or the wisdom shared? The answer shapes not just how we remember the dead, but how we choose to live.
In the end, the best obituary is one that makes someone say, "Yes, that was them exactly." It doesn't need to be perfect or poetic. It needs to be true. And in that truth—messy, complicated, beautiful human truth—we find the real memorial.
Authoritative Sources:
Hume, Janice. Obituaries in American Culture. University Press of Mississippi, 2000.
Johnson, Marilyn. The Dead Beat: Lost Souls, Lucky Stiffs, and the Perverse Pleasures of Obituaries. HarperCollins, 2006.
National Funeral Directors Association. "Writing an Obituary." NFDA.org, 2023.
Sheeler, Jim. Obit: Inspiring Stories of Ordinary People Who Led Extraordinary Lives. Pruett Publishing Company, 2007.
Society of Professional Obituary Writers. "Guidelines for Obituary Writing." SPOW.org, 2023.