Reading for a funeral - help!

[nuterritory]

My 16yo DS has volunteered to do a reading at his grandmother's funeral, but we're struggling for ideas. He doesn't want to write something. She wasn't into poetry or fiction, so there are no obvious favourites. We've googled, but nothing that has come up has seemed appropriate (and some of it has been a bit naff). Any suggestions?

She wasn't religious. She liked nature and the environment, and psychology. I'm wondering about an inspiring paragraph from a non-fiction book, but will need to do some trawling.

I attended a funeral where someone wrote a thank you note to their relative who had died. It was filled with funny anecdotes about the person and happy memories. It was so personal and lovely to hear. I wonder if this is something your son would consider if someone wrote it for him? Many condolences on your loss

Sorry for your loss.
We wrote a thank-you letter for my grandmother's funeral - it was very moving and very personal to her. There were memories from a long long life and it was a soothing thing to gather them for the letter..

Other readings are more difficult - they have to fit the person.

Ones I have liked (in years of funeral singing experience)

To live in the hearts of those we leave behind is not to die
(Headstone Lancashire Lytham St Annes)

The life that I have

The life that I have
Is all that I have
And the life that I have is yours
The love that I have
Of the life that I have
Is yours and yours and yours.
A sleep I shall have
A rest I shall have
Yet death will be but a pause,
For the peace of my years
In the long green grass
Will be yours, and yours, and yours
L. Marks

REST
The memories and love I leave behind
Are yours to keep
I have found my rest; I have turned my face
To the sun and now I sleep

(Alan Curtis)

From the bible:
To everything there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven: a time to be born and a time to die; a time to plant, and a time to pluck up that which is planted; a time to kill and a time to heal; a time to break down, and a time to build up; a time to weep and a time to laugh; a time to mourn and a time to dance; a time to cast away stones and a time to gather stones together; a time to embrace, a time to refrain from embracing; a time to seek and a time to lose; a time to keep and a time to cast away; a time to rend, and at time to sew; a time to keep silence and at time to speak; at time to love and a time to hate; a time for war and a time for peace.
Ecclesiastes chapter 3 verses 1-8

Remember
Remember me when I am gone away,
Gone far away into the silent land;
When you can no more hold me by the hand,
Nor I half turn to go yet turning stay.
Remember me when no more day by day
You tell me of our future that you planned;
Only remember me; you understand
It will be too late to counsel then or pray.
Yet if you should forget me for a while
And afterwards remember, do not grieve
For if the darkness and corruption leave
A vestige of the thoughts that once I had,
Better by far you should forget and smile
Than that you should remember and be sad.
Christina G. Rossetti

A famous one:
The next room
Death is nothing at all... I have only slipped away into the next room. I am I, and you are you. Whatever we were to each other, that we still are. Call me by my old familiar name, speak to me in the easy way which you always used. Put no difference in your tone, wear no force air of solemnity or sorrow. Laugh as we always laughed at the little jokes we enjoyed together. Pray, smile, think of me – let my name be ever the household word that it always was, let it be spoken without effect, without the trace of a shadow on it. Life means all that it ever meant. It is the same as it ever was, there is unbroken continuity. Why should I be out of mind because I am out of sight: I am waiting for you, for an interval, somewhere very near, just round the corner. All is well
Canon HS Holland
Another well known one:
I am the gentle Autumn’s rain
Do not stand at my grave and weep;
I am not there.
I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow
I am the diamond glints on snow.
I am the sunlight on ripened grain.
I am the gentle autumn’s rain.
When you awaken in the morining’s hush,
I am the swift uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circled flight.
I am the soft stars that shine at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry;
I am not there.
I did not die.
Anon

A silly one:

If I should go before the rest of you,
Break not a flower nor inscribe a stone.
Nor when I’m gone speak in a Sunday voice,
But be the usual selves that Ihave known.
Weep if you must,
Parting is hell,
But life goes on
So sing as well
Joyce Grenfell

If she was more into science than religion, what about ‘You want a physicist to speak at your funeral’ by Aaron Freeman;

You want a physicist to speak at your funeral.
You want the physicist to talk to your grieving family about the conservation of energy, so they will understand that your energy has not died. You want the physicist to remind your sobbing mother about the first law of thermodynamics; that no energy gets created in the universe, and none is destroyed. You want your mother to know that all your energy, every vibration, every Btu of heat, every wave of every particle that was her beloved child remains with her in this world. You want the physicist to tell your weeping father that amid energies of the cosmos, you gave as good as you got.

And at one point you’d hope that the physicist would step down from the pulpit and walk to your brokenhearted spouse there in the pew and tell him that all the photons that ever bounced off your face, all the particles whose paths were interrupted by your smile, by the touch of your hair, hundreds of trillions of particles, have raced off like children, their ways forever changed by you. And as your widow rocks in the arms of a loving family, may the physicist let her know that all the photons that bounced from you were gathered in the particle detectors that are her eyes, that those photons created within her constellations of electromagnetically charged neurons whose energy will go on forever.

And the physicist will remind the congregation of how much of all our energy is given off as heat. There may be a few fanning themselves with their programs as he says it. And he will tell them that the warmth that flowed through you in life is still here, still part of all that we are, even as we who mourn continue the heat of our own lives.

And you’ll want the physicist to explain to those who loved you that they need not have faith; indeed, they should not have faith. Let them know that they can measure, that scientists have measured precisely the conservation of energy and found it accurate, verifiable and consistent across space and time. You can hope your family will examine the evidence and satisfy themselves that the science is sound and that they’ll be comforted to know your energy’s still around. According to the law of the conservation of energy, not a bit of you is gone; you’re just less orderly.

Amen.
-Aaron Freeman.

This simple piece was read at a non religious funeral I attended by a young relative and was very appropriate.

When Great Trees Fall. Maya Angelou

“And when great souls die,
after a period peace blooms,
slowly and always
irregularly. Spaces fill
with a kind of
soothing electric vibration.
Our senses, restored, never
to be the same, whisper to us.
They existed. They existed.
We can be. Be and be
better. For they existed.”

I know you said she wasn't into poetry but I think this poem by Edwin Muir is beautiful and fits with the nature idea

www.scottishpoetrylibrary.org.uk/poem/late-swallow/

Leave, leave your well-loved nest,
Late swallow, and fly away.
Here is no rest
For hollowing heart and wearying wing.
Your comrades all have flown
To seek their southern paradise
Across the great earth’s downward sloping side,
And you are alone.
Why should you cling
Still to the swiftly ageing narrowing day?
Prepare;
Shake your pinions long untried
That now must bear you there where you would be
Through all the heavens of ice;
Till falling down the homing air
You light and perch upon the radiant tree.

We had this reading at the funeral of someone very special to me. It's beautiful in its simplicity and makes me cry everytime I read it.

Into the freedom of wind and sunshine
We let you go
Into the dance of the stars and the planets
We let you go
Into the wind’s breath and the hands of the star maker
We let you go
We love you, we miss you, we want you to be happy
Go safely, go dancing, go running home.

By Ruth Burgess

What about look for me in rainbows:

Time for me to go now, I won't say goodbye;
Look for me in rainbows, way up in the sky.

In the morning sunrise when all the world is new, just look for me and love me, as you know I loved you.

Time for me to leave you, I won't say goodbye;
Look for me in rainbows, high up in the sky.

In the evening sunset, when all the world is through, just look for me and love me, and I'll be close to you.

It won't be forever, the day will come and then
my loving arms will hold you, when we meet again.

Time for us to part now, we won't say goodbye; Look for me in rainbows, shining in the sky.

Every waking moment, and all your whole life through just look for me and love me, as you know I loved you.

Just wish me to be near you, and I'll be there with you.

Writing doesn't have to be formal.

I talked about memories of day trips with my Nan. How I could remember her enthusiasm and energy going on trips to the beach, how quickly she would run down hills and into the sea. How she liked a spotless house, so woe betide anyone eating away from the table as the carpet cleaner would be out to get you!

I wanted to highlight different sides to her.

This was read at my mother in law’s funeral. I read it at my father in laws
The Ship

What is dying
I am standing on the seashore, a ship sails in the morning breeze and starts for the ocean.
She is an object of beauty and I stand watching her till at last she fades on the horizon and someone at my side says: "She is gone."
Gone!
Where
Gone from my sight that is all.
She is just as large in the masts, hull and spars as she was when I saw her, and just as able to bear her load of living freight to its destination.
The diminished size and total loss of sight is in me, not in her, and just at the moment when someone at my side says,
"She is gone"
there are others who are watching her coming, and other voices take up a glad shout:
"There she comes!"
and that is dying.
Bishop Brent

I read this if at my DF's funeral

He is Gone by David Harkins

You can shed tears that he is gone,
Or you can smile because he lived,
You can close your eyes and pray that he will come back,
Or you can open your eyes and see all that he has left.
Your heart can be empty because you can't see him
Or you can be full of the love that you shared,
You can turn your back on tomorrow and live yesterday,
Or you can be happy for tomorrow because of yesterday.
You can remember him and only that he is gone
Or you can cherish his memory and let it live on,
You can cry and close your mind, be empty and
turn your back,
Or you can do what he would want:
smile, open your eyes, love and go on

Obviously you'd have to change the his/him to her/she.

Instructions
When I have moved beyond you in the adventure of life,
Gather in some pleasant place and there remember me
With spoken words, old and new.
Let a tear if you will, but let a smile come quickly
For I have loved the laughter of life.
Do not linger too long with your solemnities.
Go eat and talk, and when you can;
Follow a woodland trail, climb a high mountain,
Walk along the wild seashore,
Chew the thoughts of some book
Which challenges your soul.
Use your hands some bright day
To make a thing of beauty
Or to lift someone’s heavy load.
Though you mention not my name,
Though no thought of me crosses your mind,
I shall be with you,
For these have been the realities of my life for me.
And when you face some crisis with anguish.
When you walk alone with courage,
When you choose your path of right,
I shall be very close to you.
I have followed the valleys,
I have climbed the heights of life.
By Arnold Crompton

One of my daughters read The Dash bu Linda Ellis at her grandfather's funeral.
It's about life lived between the two dates on a headstone, date of birth, dash, date of desth

Desiderata

GO placidly amid the noise and haste, and remember what peace there may be in silence. As far as possible without surrender be on good terms with all persons. Speak your truth quietly and clearly; and listen to others, even the dull and ignorant; they too have their story. Avoid loud and aggressive persons, they are vexatious to the spirit. If you compare yourself with other, you may become vain and bitter; for always there will be greater and lesser persons than yourself. Enjoy your achievements as well as your plans. Keep interested in your own career, however humble; it is a real possession in the changing fortunes of time. Exercise caution in your business affairs; for the world is full of trickery. But let this not blind you to what virtue there is; many persons strive for high ideals; and everywhere life is full of heroism. Be yourself. Especially, do not feign affection. Neither be cynical about love; for in the face of all aridity and disenchantment it is perennial as the grass. Take kindly the counsel of the years, gracefully surrendering the things of youth. Nurture strength of spirit to shield you in sudden misfortune. But do not distress yourself with imaginings. Many fears are born of fatigue and loneliness. Beyond a wholesome discipline, be gentle with yourself. You are a child of the universe, no less than the trees and the stars; you have a right to be here. And whether or not it is clear to you, no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should. Therefore be at peace with God, whatever you conceive Him to be, and whatever your labors and aspirations, in the noisy confusion of life keep peace with your soul. With all its sham, drudgery and broken dreams, it is still a beautiful world. Be careful. Strive to be happy.

When I’m Gone
A beautiful non-religious poem by Mosiah Lyman Hancock urging the narrator’s friend to only remember his virtues and achievements. Ironically, by acknowledging them, the poem deliberately draws attention to his flaws and failings, but hope that they will be forgiven. Above all, he does not want his loved ones to be sad that he has died. Hancock, an American who lived during the 19th century, was a member of the Church of Latter-Day Saints, but this poem is non-religious.

When I’m Gone
When I come to the end of my journey
And I travel my last weary mile
Just forget if you can, that I ever frowned
And remember only the smile

Forget unkind words I have spoken
Remember some good I have done
Forget that I ever had heartache
And remember I've had loads of fun

Forget that I've stumbled and blundered
And sometimes fell by the way
Remember I have fought some hard battles
And won, ere the close of the day

Then forget to grieve for my going
I would not have you sad for a day
But in summer just gather some flowers
And remember the place where I lay

And come in the shade of evening
When the sun paints the sky in the west
Stand for a few moments beside me
And remember only my best.

Do not stand at my grave and weep
I am not there; I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow,
I am the diamond glints on snow,
I am the sun on ripened grain,
I am the gentle autumn rain.
When you awaken in the morning's hush
I am the swift uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circled flight.
I am the soft stars that shine at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry,
I am not there; I did not die.

Source: www.familyfriendpoems.com/poem/do-not-stand-by-my-grave-and-weep-by-mary-elizabeth-frye

We had He Is Gone that MrsScrubbingBrush posted above at DH's funeral. It worked, but I wish I had known of You Want A Physicist To Speak At Your Funeral. I didn't find that in all my hours of googling to find something appropriate for the funeral of an atheist who died suddenly at a young age. Thank you for posting that.

Did she have a favourite song - read out lyrics? I heard a passage from Winnie the Pooh about love once read.

DD was 9 and read Warning at her Granny's funeral, as an ex Greenham woman it was perfect

When I am an old woman I shall wear purple
With a red hat which doesn’t go, and doesn’t suit me.
And I shall spend my pension on brandy and summer gloves
And satin sandals, and say we’ve no money for butter.
I shall sit down on the pavement when I’m tired
And gobble up samples in shops and press alarm bells
And run my stick along the public railings
And make up for the sobriety of my youth.
I shall go out in my slippers in the rain
And pick flowers in other people’s gardens
And learn to spit.

You can wear terrible shirts and grow more fat
And eat three pounds of sausages at a go
Or only bread and pickle for a week
And hoard pens and pencils and beermats and things in boxes.

But now we must have clothes that keep us dry
And pay our rent and not swear in the street
And set a good example for the children.
We must have friends to dinner and read the papers.

But maybe I ought to practise a little now?
So people who know me are not too shocked and surprised
When suddenly I am old, and start to wear purple.

A reflection on an autumn day

I took up a handful of grain and let it slip flowing through my fingers,
and I said to myself, 'This is what it is all about.

There is no longer any room for pretence.

At harvest time the essence is revealed
The straw and chaff are set aside, they have done their job.
The grain alone matters - sacks of pure gold.

So it is when a person dies the essence of their life is revealed.
At the moment of death a person's character stands out;
Happy for the person who has forged it well over the years.

Then it will not be the great achievement that will count, nor how
Much money or possessions a person has amassed.

These, like the straw and the chaff, will be left behind.
It is what they have made of themselves that will matter.

Death can take away from us what we have,
But it cannot rob us of who we are.'

Anon

Finding You In Beauty

The rays of light filtered through
The sentinels of trees this morning.
I sat in the garden and contemplated.
The serenity and beauty
Of my feelings and surroundings
Completely captivated me.
I thought of you.
I discovered you tucked away
In the shadows of the trees.
Then, rediscovered you

In the smiles of the flowers
As the sun penetrated their petals
In the rhythm of the leaves
Falling in the garden
In the freedom of the birds
As they fly searching as you do.
I’m very happy to have found you,
Now you will never leave me
For I will always find you in the beauty of life.

-- Walter Rinder

@NMC2022 that is beautiful. Appropriate, not at all "naff" as nuterritory mentions many funeral poems can be, and new to me despite being involved with funeral services.
I do hope the poster comes back, lots for her to consider.

My DS read this for his Grans funeral - by Joyce Grenfrll

You’ve Just Walked On Ahead of Me
And I’ve got to understand
You must release the ones you love
And let go of their hand.
I try and cope the best I can
But I’m missing you so much
If I could only see you
And once more feel your touch.
Yes, you’ve just walked on ahead of me
Don’t worry I’ll be fine
But now and then I swear I feel
Your hand slip into mine.

Read this at my DF’s funeral

Remember Me
Speak of me as you have always done.

Remember the good times, laughter, and fun.

Share the happy memories we’ve made.

Do not let them wither or fade.

I’ll be with you in the summer’s sun

And when the winter’s chill has come.

I’ll be the voice that whispers in the breeze.

I’m peaceful now, put your mind at ease.

I’ve rested my eyes and gone to sleep,

But memories we’ve shared are yours to keep.

Sometimes our final days may be a test,

But remember me when I was at my best.

Although things may not be the same,

Don’t be afraid to use my name.

Let your sorrow last for just a while.

Comfort each other and try to smile.

I’ve lived a life filled with joy and fun.

Live on now, make me proud of what you’ll become.

Anthony Dowson

I like this one

FEEL NO GUILT IN LAUGHTER

Feel no guilt in laughter, she’d know how much you care.

Feel no sorrow in a smile that she is not here to share.

You cannot grieve forever; she would not want you to.

She’d hope that you could live your life the way you always do.

So, talk about the good times and the way you showed you cared,

the days you spent together, all the happiness you shared.

Let memories surround you, a word someone may say

will suddenly recapture a time, an hour or a day,

that brings her back as clearly as though she were still here,

and fills you with the feeling that she is always near.

For if you keep those moments, you will never be apart

and she will live forever locked safely within your heart

We had this one read at my Grandad's funeral.