A simple guide to writing a meaningful obituary, with a free template and examples
An obituary tells the story of a life - who someone was, who they loved, and what they'll be remembered for. There's no single "correct" way to write one, but most obituaries share a common structure that makes them easier to write and easier for readers to follow. Below is a breakdown of what to include, a fill-in-the-blank template, and two example obituaries in different styles - traditional and celebration-of-life.
Margaret "Peggy" Donovan, 84, of Portland, Oregon, passed away peacefully on March 3rd, surrounded by her family. She was born on June 14, 1941, in Butte, Montana, to James and Ruth Donovan. Peggy spent 30 years teaching third grade at Lincoln Elementary, where she was known for her patience and her endless supply of classroom plants. She loved gardening, Sunday crossword puzzles, and summers at the lake with her grandchildren.
Peggy is survived by her husband of 58 years, Thomas; her children, Susan (Mark) and David (Elaine); four grandchildren; and her sister, Carol. She was preceded in death by her parents and her brother, Richard.
A funeral service will be held on March 10th at 11:00 AM at Grace Community Church. In lieu of flowers, the family asks that donations be made to the Lincoln Elementary library fund.
Let's be honest - Big Joe Ramirez would've hated a sad obituary, so here's the short version: he lived big, laughed loud, and made terrible puns right up until the end. Joe passed away on April 18th at 71 years old, doing what he loved most - telling his grandkids a story that was "100% true, mostly."
Joe spent 40 years as a union electrician, coached little league for two decades, and never once turned down a second helping of his wife's enchiladas. He's survived by his wife, Dolores; his kids, Anthony and Maria; six grandchildren who all think he was secretly their favorite; and more friends than we could possibly list here.
We're celebrating Joe's life on April 27th at 2:00 PM at Riverside Park - bring a lawn chair, a story about Joe, and your appetite. No flowers, please; instead, take someone you love out for enchiladas.