Giving a eulogy for your grandad means speaking about a man who lived through a lot before you came along. You may know him mainly as the man in the armchair with the paper, or the one who took you to the football, and you may know very little about the rest. That is normal. A good eulogy from a grandchild uses a little of his earlier life and a lot of your own memories of him.
This page covers what to think about, some questions to get you started and a full example eulogy for a grandfather. For the general process, see how to write a eulogy.
Find out about his life before you
Talk to his children and his old friends. Ask where he grew up, what his first job was and how he met your gran or his partner. Old photos, payslips, union cards and letters can all help. Many families find things out while writing the eulogy that they never knew, such as a medal in a drawer or a trade he learned before anyone was born.
Keep this part short. A few clear facts are enough to show where he came from, and then you can move on to the man you knew.
His work and any service history
Work was a big part of life for many men of his generation, and it is often where people outside the family knew him best. Say what he did and roughly how long for, and add one detail about what the job meant to him. His former workmates may be at the funeral, and they'll be glad to hear it mentioned.
If he served in the forces or did National Service, handle it with care. Check the facts with the family or his service papers before you include them, including his regiment or ship, the years, and where he served. Never guess or fill gaps, because there may be people in the room who served alongside him or who know the history well. Some men talked about their service all their lives and some never mentioned it. Follow his lead. If he kept quiet about it, you can simply say that he served, and leave it there. If the Royal British Legion or his old regiment are involved in the service, ask the funeral director how they would like to be thanked.
Questions to help you get started
- Where did he grow up, and what did he tell you about it?
- What work did he do, and what was he proud of?
- How did he meet your gran?
- What did he like doing with the grandchildren?
- What were his sayings, and what did he always say when you left?
- What did he support, grow, mend or collect?
- What was he like with his great-grandchildren?
Things to think about
Your parent in the front row. You are speaking about someone's dad. Your mum or dad, and your aunts and uncles, will be close by and may be finding it very hard. Ask them what they'd like included, let them read a draft, and think about saying something directly to them.
Your gran. If your gran is still living, she may want particular things said about their marriage. If she died before him, a sentence about their years together and how he managed after she was gone can be very moving. There is a companion guide to a eulogy for your nan or grandma.
Great-grandchildren and readings. Mention any great-grandchildren by name. If an older grandchild would like to be involved without giving the eulogy, a short reading or poem is a good way to include them.
Example eulogy for a grandad
This example is read by his eldest grandson in Dundee. It is about four minutes long and has a quieter, more reflective tone, with a little humour. There is a different grandad eulogy on the eulogy examples page if you'd like to compare.
Thank you all for coming. I'm Ross, Alec's eldest grandson. We all called him Papa, so you'll have to forgive me if I do the same.
Alexander Duncan was born in Lochee in 1936, the youngest of four. His mother worked at Camperdown Works, in the jute, and his father was a coalman. Papa left school at fifteen, worked as a message boy for a butcher on the Hilltown, and then did two years of National Service with the Black Watch. He didn't say much about it. He said the army taught him to make a bed and polish his shoes, and he did both every morning for the rest of his life.
When he came home he joined the Post Office, and he was a postman in Broughty Ferry for thirty-four years. He knew every house on his round and most of the dogs. People still stop my dad in the street to say that Alec was the only postman who ever shut their gate.
He met my gran, Sheena, at a dance in the Caird Hall in 1959. They were married for fifty-six years and had two children, my dad Gordon and my Auntie Lorna. When we lost Gran in 2015, we worried about how he would cope on his own. He taught himself to make soup. For about a year he phoned me every Sunday to ask how long you boil a potato, and every week he said, "I'm only checking." By the end his lentil soup was better than hers, although none of us ever told him that.
Papa was a Dundee United man all his life. He was at Dens Park, of all places, the day they won the league in 1983, and he talked about it the way other people talk about their wedding. He took each of us grandchildren to our first game, and he bought us a pie at half-time on the condition that we didn't tell our mothers.
On summer Sundays he took us along the front at Broughty Ferry. We'd walk out to the castle and stop for an ice cream on the way back. He didn't talk much on those walks. He liked to look at the water and let us chatter. I understand that better now than I did then.
Last year my daughter Eilidh was born, and Papa came up the stairs to our flat, all three floors, to hold her. He sat in the chair by the window for over an hour and didn't want anyone else to have a turn. He called her "the wee one" and asked after her every time I phoned.
Dad, Auntie Lorna, I know how much you did for him these last few years. He knew it too, even if he wasn't a man for saying so.
Papa always finished a phone call the same way. He'd say, "Right, that's you then," and hang up before you could answer. So, Papa, thank you for everything. Right, that's you then.
Why it works: it keeps his early life and his National Service brief and factual, then spends most of its time on small memories. His quietness comes through in the walks and the phone calls, and the ending uses his own words.
Ways to end a eulogy for your grandad
- "Thank you, Grandad, for all the lifts and all the patience. We'll look after Gran."
- "He always said to leave things better than you found them. He did that with every one of us."
- "Goodbye, Grandad. I hope Gran has the kettle on for you."
You might also find the guide to a eulogy for your dad useful, and the page on how long a eulogy should be if you're working to a set time.
Common questions
How do I start a eulogy for my grandad?
Thank people for coming and say who you are, for example "I'm Ross, Alec's eldest grandson." Then either go straight into where he was born and grew up, or start with a small memory of him and come back to his life story after it.
Should I mention his time in the forces?
If it mattered to him, yes. Keep to what you know for certain, such as his regiment or service, the years and where he was posted. Check the details with the family or his papers. If he never talked about it, a single respectful sentence is enough.
What if I only knew my grandad when he was old?
That is how most grandchildren know their grandparents, and it's fine. Ask his children and friends about his earlier life for the opening part, then spend the rest of the eulogy on what he was like with you. Your own memories are what people will want to hear.
Can I include a poem in a eulogy for my grandad?
Yes, as long as it is short and the celebrant knows it is coming. "Crossing the Bar" by Alfred, Lord Tennyson is a common choice for a man who loved the sea. Keep the poem within the time you have been given, or ask someone else to read it separately.