Obituary Examples for a Husband

An obituary for a husband is nearly always written by his wife, often the same week, often at a kitchen table with the funeral home's deadline in an hour. The examples below are for that table. The names and towns are invented; what is real is the shape, and the permission to write it in your own voice.

"My husband" or "her husband": the first decision

Newspapers print obituaries in the third person ("He is survived by his wife, Ruth"). A memorial page or a program does not have to. Many wives write "my husband" now, and it reads as what it is: the person who knew him best, telling you. Choose one and hold to it. Both appear below.

The short notice (about 60 words)

Thomas Edward Grant, 74, of Bend, Oregon, died on September 9, 2026, at home, with his wife of forty-eight years, Ruth, beside him. He is also survived by his daughters, Sarah and Emily, and four grandchildren. A memorial service will be held Saturday, September 20, at 2:00 p.m. at Bend Community Church. Donations to the Deschutes Land Trust are welcome.

A long marriage (about 220 words, third person)

Thomas Edward Grant, 74, of Bend, died peacefully at home on September 9, 2026.

Tom was born in Klamath Falls in 1952, the son of a mill worker, and put himself through Oregon State by fighting fires in the summers. He met Ruth Halvorsen at a dance in 1977 and told his brother that night that he had met his wife. They were married the next June and stayed married for forty-eight years, which Tom attributed to "saying yes to most things and sorry to the rest."

He was a forester for the state for thirty-one years and could not drive past a stand of ponderosa without slowing down to look at it. He built the cabin on the Metolius with his own hands and one borrowed backhoe, taught both girls to fly-fish before they could ride a bike, and kept every card Ruth ever gave him in a cigar box she was not supposed to know about.

He is survived by Ruth; his daughters, Sarah Grant Ellison (Mike) and Emily Grant; his grandchildren, Owen, Hazel, June and Wyatt; and his brother, Bill. A memorial will be held Saturday, September 20, at 2:00 p.m. at Bend Community Church, and afterwards at the cabin, for anyone who can make the drive.

The same man, in the first person (about 180 words)

This is the version a wife might put on the memorial page or read at the service.

My husband, Tom Grant, died at home on September 9. He was 74, and I had been married to him for forty-eight years, which is not long enough.

You probably knew him as the forester, or the man at the cabin, or the one who fixed your fence and would not take money for it. I knew him as the person who brought me coffee in bed every morning of our marriage, including the mornings we were not speaking. He kept every card I ever gave him. I found the box last night.

He taught our girls to fish, and then our grandchildren, and he would want me to say that Hazel is the best of the lot. He was not a talker, but he showed up, every time, for everyone, and that is the whole of what I have to say about him.

We will gather at Bend Community Church on Saturday the 20th at 2. Come to the cabin after. He would have wanted the fire going.

A short marriage, a young death

Daniel Ruiz Okafor, 38, of Columbus, died on August 30, 2026, after a sudden illness.

Dan and Priya were married in 2022 in her parents' garden, in the rain, and he said it was the best day of his life so often that people stopped arguing with him. He was a high school chemistry teacher who ran the robotics club on his own time, a terrible but enthusiastic cook, and the father of Leo, who is two and has his laugh.

He is survived by his wife, Priya; his son, Leo; his parents, Chidi and Marisol Okafor; and his sister, Grace. A celebration of his life will be held at Whetstone Park on Saturday, September 13, at 11:00 a.m. Priya asks that you bring a story about Dan, written down, for Leo to read when he is older.

A husband who died suddenly

The obituary does not have to explain what happened. "Died unexpectedly" is complete. What it should do is give the reader the man, so the shock has somewhere to go.

Marcus Anthony Bell, 56, of Baltimore, died unexpectedly on September 14, 2026.

Marcus drove a city bus for twenty-nine years, coached the Northwood Little League for twenty of them, and was married to LaToya for thirty-one, which he called "the best decision I ever made, and I made it at twenty-five." He was famous on his route for waiting. He waited for the woman with the walker and the kid running for the stop and the man who was always, always late, and he was never once behind schedule, which nobody could explain.

He is survived by LaToya; his children, Marcus Jr., Aaliyah and Jordan; his mother, Gloria; and more people than a bus holds. Homegoing Saturday, September 20, at 11:00 a.m., at New Shiloh Baptist Church.

What to leave out, and what not to

• Leave out the cause if you want to. "After a long illness" and "unexpectedly" are both complete sentences. Nobody is owed the medical detail.
• Leave out "beloved" and "devoted". Say the coffee in bed. It does the same job and only he did it.
• Do not leave out yourself. "His wife of forty-eight years" is a fact; "I had been married to him for forty-eight years, which is not long enough" is the truth. You are allowed the second one.
• Do not leave out the ordinary. The fence he fixed, the box of cards, the waiting bus. The ordinary is what people will recognise him by.