Almost everyone wants to say something and does not know how to start. What stops them is not reluctance — it is the fear of getting the register wrong, of writing something inadequate under a photograph of someone who has died.
A blank box makes that worse. It asks for a eulogy and gives no indication of what length or tone is acceptable. Most people close the tab.
Ask a specific question instead
Specificity gives permission. It signals the size of the answer and takes the burden of invention away.
- "What is the first thing you think of when you think of her?"
- "Tell us about a time he made you laugh."
- "What did she always say?"
- "How did you two meet?"
- "What did he teach you how to do?"
- "What would she be doing on an ordinary Sunday?"
- "Tell us something we might not know about him."
That last one is the strongest. It invites the person to contribute something the family does not have, which is precisely what makes a memory worth collecting rather than a condolence.
Rotate the prompt rather than asking everyone the same thing. Twenty answers to one question read as a form. Twenty answers to six questions read as a portrait.
When to ask
Not in the first three days. People are dealing with logistics and shock, and an ask lands as one more task.
The two moments that work: in the program, where everyone at the service receives it at once, and three to four weeks after, when the phone has gone quiet and people are wondering whether it is still all right to bring the person up. That second wave is the one families never expect and always value most.
How to phrase the ask itself
Short, specific, and with an out. Something like:
We are collecting memories of Dad in one place, so we have them all together. If you have a minute, we would love to know one thing about him that we might not — a story, something he said, anything. A sentence is plenty. No pressure at all if you would rather not.
"A sentence is plenty" is doing most of the work in that paragraph. It sets the bar low enough that people start, and almost everyone who starts writes more than a sentence.
Asking the people who are hardest to ask
- Older relatives who do not use the internet. Ask them on the phone and type it up yourself. Tell them you are doing that — most are pleased.
- Colleagues and neighbours. They often have the best material and assume they are not entitled to contribute. Ask directly and say why: "you knew him at work in a way we never did".
- Children. Ask for a drawing rather than writing. It will be the thing the family keeps.
- People estranged from the family. Let them contribute privately if they want to. A memory does not require a resolved relationship.
What to do with them afterwards
Do not leave them in one place only. Print the best of them into the booklet if you have not printed yet; read two or three aloud at the reception; and keep the whole set somewhere that is not a single website.
A year later, the memories are usually worth more to the family than the obituary is. The obituary is what the family wrote about the person. The memories are what everyone else knew.
Give them somewhere to put it
A memorial page collects what people write, so the stories that arrive for months have somewhere to land.
Start their tribute