JournalSeptember 25, 2026
Obituary Examples: Sample Obituaries for Every Relationship
Sometimes the easiest way to start writing is to read one that is already written. Here are obituary examples for different relationships and different lengths, with notes on what makes each one work.
When someone asks you to write the obituary, the hardest part is rarely the facts. It is the blank page. You know the dates. You know where the service will be. What you do not know is how to begin a paragraph that is supposed to hold a whole person.
Sometimes the easiest way to start is to read one that is already written. Below are obituary examples for different relationships and different lengths. All of them use invented names and details, so nothing here belongs to a real family. Take the shape of whichever one fits, and fill it with your person.
A short obituary (for a newspaper or funeral home listing)
Short does not mean cold. Most newspapers charge by the line, and many families now publish a brief notice in print and a longer one online. A short obituary does one thing well: it gives the essential facts and one detail that sounds like the person.
Margaret Ann Doyle, 81, of Cedar Falls, died peacefully at home on March 3, 2026, surrounded by her family. Born in Dubuque to Walter and Rose Keane, she worked for thirty-one years as a school librarian and never once shushed a child who was excited about a book. She is survived by her husband of fifty-eight years, Thomas; her children, Anne (Peter) Salaz and Michael Doyle; and six grandchildren. A funeral Mass will be held at St. Brigid Catholic Church on March 8 at 10 a.m. Memorial gifts may be made to the Cedar Falls Public Library.
Notice how one line — the part about never shushing a child — does more work than three sentences of adjectives would have. If you only have room for one personal detail, make it a specific one.
An obituary for a mother
Rosalind "Roz" Carver, 74, of Asheville, died on January 19, 2026, after a long illness she faced with more humor than anyone expected.
Roz was born in Charleston in 1951, the second of four girls. She met her husband, Dean, at a church picnic where she beat him at horseshoes, a fact she reported often and accurately. They married in 1973 and raised three children in the blue house on Ridgefield Road, where the back door was never locked and there was always more food than guests.
She spent twenty-two years as a nurse in the labor and delivery unit at Mission Hospital. She kept a list of the names of babies she helped deliver. It ran to several pages.
Roz is survived by her husband, Dean; her children, Teresa Carver, Daniel (Amy) Carver and Ruth Ann Bell; seven grandchildren; and her sisters, Jean and Marilyn. She was preceded in death by her parents and her sister Carol.
A celebration of life will be held at Ridgefield Baptist Church on January 25 at 2 p.m. In lieu of flowers, the family asks that you call your mother.
That last line will not suit every family, and it should never feel forced. But when the tone is right, a small closing instruction like that tells readers more about who she was than another paragraph of description could.
An obituary for a father
Walter James Ferris, 79, of Toledo, died on February 11, 2026, at Mercy Health St. Vincent Medical Center, with his sons beside him.
Walt was born in 1946 and spent most of his working life as a lineman for the electric company, which meant that for forty years his family knew that when the power went out in a storm, he was going out into it. He served in the Army from 1966 to 1969. He was proud of both, and he did not talk much about either.
He married Doreen Whitlock in 1971. He taught all four of his children to drive a stick shift in the church parking lot, coached Little League for eleven seasons, and made a pot of coffee at 5:15 every morning whether anyone else was awake or not.
He is survived by his wife, Doreen; his children, James (Kate), Paul, Susan Ferris-Doyle (Ryan) and Nora Ferris; nine grandchildren; and his brother, Ed.
Visitation will be held at Whitmore Funeral Home on February 16 from 4 to 7 p.m., with a service the following morning at 11 a.m. Memorial contributions may be directed to the Wounded Warrior Project.
An obituary for a grandparent
Clara Ruth Hensley, 93, of Prescott, died on December 2, 2025, at home, which is exactly where she said she intended to die and exactly the sort of thing she tended to be right about.
Clara was born in 1932 on a farm outside Flagstaff. She married Earl Hensley in 1952; they were married for sixty-one years until his death in 2013. She raised five children, kept a garden that fed most of the street, and was known to arrive at a sick neighbor's door with soup before the neighbor had told anyone they were sick.
She is survived by her children, Earl Jr., Nancy, Roger, Patricia and Dale; nineteen grandchildren; thirty-one great-grandchildren; and one great-great-grandson, Isaiah, who is three and who called her Big Grandma.
A graveside service will be held at Prescott Memorial Gardens on December 8 at 1 p.m.
An obituary for a spouse
Andrew Michael Beck, 58, of Portland, died unexpectedly on April 6, 2026.
Andy was a high school chemistry teacher for twenty-six years, a bad but enthusiastic guitar player, and the person his students came back to visit ten and twenty years after graduating. He ran the same loop around Mount Tabor most mornings. He answered every email, including the ones that did not need answering.
He is survived by his wife, Lena; his daughters, Mira and Josephine; his mother, Katherine Beck; and a great many former students who will read this and remember the year he made a volcano out of the trash cans.
A memorial gathering will be held at Cleveland High School's auditorium on April 13 at 3 p.m. All are welcome.
An obituary for a child
There is no correct way to write this one, and no length that is too short. Many families write only a few lines, and that is enough. Others want to say more. Both are right.
Eli Thomas Warren, age 7, of Bloomington, died on May 22, 2026, at Riley Hospital for Children, held by his mom and dad.
Eli loved dinosaurs, the color orange, his dog Biscuit, and being the one to press the elevator button. He was in first grade at Fairview Elementary, where his class made him a paper chain with a link for every day he was in the hospital.
He is survived by his parents, Nicole and Brandon Warren; his sister, Hazel, age 4; and his grandparents, Dave and Sherry Warren and Linda Cruz.
A gathering to remember Eli will be held at Fairview Elementary on May 28 at 4 p.m. The family asks that you wear orange.
An obituary for a sibling or a friend
When the person who died did not leave a spouse or children, an obituary written by a sibling or a close friend often carries the clearest voice, because it is written by someone who knew them before they were anybody's parent.
Denise Okafor, 46, of Baltimore, died on July 30, 2026. Denise was a graphic designer, a relentless and loud fan of the Orioles, and the friend who showed up with a van whenever anyone moved. She had opinions about fonts and was usually right.
She is survived by her brother, Chidi Okafor; her sister-in-law, Amara; her nephew, Tobe; and a wide circle of friends who considered her family and were considered family in return.
Friends are invited to gather at Patterson Park on August 9 at 5 p.m. Bring a chair.
What every obituary needs
However long you make it, most obituaries include the same bones: full name, including a nickname or maiden name if it is what people knew them by; age; city; date of death; date and place of birth; close family who survive them and those who died before them; a few lines about the life itself — work, service, faith, what they loved; and the practical details of the service, plus where to send memorial gifts.
Funeral homes and newspapers usually have a submission deadline and a word or line limit. It is worth asking about both before you start, so you are not cutting a paragraph you loved at eleven at night.
Common mistakes to avoid
The most common one is writing a résumé. Job titles and degrees are facts, not portraits. One sentence about the work and one about how they did it will say far more.
The second is reaching for language you would never use out loud. If "she will be deeply missed by all who knew her" does not sound like your family, leave it out. Plain sentences hold up better.
The third is leaving people out by accident. Write the survivor list early, read it aloud to one other family member, and check the spelling of every name. This is the part people notice.
And be careful with detail that could be used against the living: a full date of birth combined with a mother's maiden name and a home address is more information than a public notice needs.
When the words are not enough
An obituary is a short form doing an enormous job. Even a good one leaves things out — the way she laughed at her own jokes before the punchline, the sound of his truck in the driveway. Some families find that the notice handles the facts and something else has to carry the rest: a photo slideshow at the service, a letter read aloud, a song.
That is the work we do at Their Life Song — turning the specifics a family shares into an original song written for one person. It is not a replacement for the words you write this week. It is a place for the parts that would not fit in them.
For now, pick the example above that sounds closest to your person, open a blank document, and write the first sentence. You can fix it later. Almost every obituary that ever moved someone was rewritten at least three times.