About Your Eulogy
Death is serious.
That doesn’t mean we have to be solemn about it all the time.
We’re all going to die.
There. That’s the awkward bit out of the way.
Your Eulogy exists because, for something that will happen to every single one of us, we’re remarkably good at avoiding the subject until circumstances force us to talk about it.
And then, suddenly, there are decisions to make, things to organise, people to tell, and somebody asking:
Who’s going to write the eulogy?
We thought there might be a better time to start thinking about that.
Like now.
While you’re alive.
This Is Really About Life
Obviously, death is involved.
But a eulogy isn’t really about death.
It’s about the life that happened before it.
The people.
The places.
The relationships.
The decisions.
The mistakes.
The ordinary Tuesday afternoons.
The things you did for twenty years without realising they’d become part of how people knew you.
The stories everybody remembers.
The stories nobody else knows.
The ridiculous details.
The things that mattered enormously.
The things that didn’t matter nearly as much as everybody assumed.
That’s what interests us.
Not how you died.
What you were like while you were here.
Why Your Eulogy Exists
Because eventually, somebody may have to talk about you when you’re not there.
And the things available to them may be surprisingly limited.
Official facts.
Their own memories.
Other people’s memories.
Photographs.
Family stories of increasingly questionable accuracy.
Perhaps some social media posts.
We think there’s room for one more source.
You.
Not a polished version.
Not your personal brand.
Not a list of accomplishments.
Not a final attempt to control what everybody thinks about you.
Just your contribution to the record.
The people.
The stories.
The details.
The difficult bits.
The things that mattered.
The things nobody else knew to ask.
And enough of your voice that, somewhere amongst it all, somebody thinks:
There you are.
That’s Your Eulogy.
Leave them enough to get you right.