Start with what only you know
A mother's eulogy is different from any other because everyone in the room thinks they know her, and most of them only know one part of her. Your job is to bring the rest of her into the room.
Start with one piece of paper. Write three things only her children, or her closest people, would know. Not the public version. The private one.
The way she hummed in the kitchen. The thing she always said when she was nervous. The way she laughed at things nobody else found funny. The smell of her coat. The sentence she said to you a thousand times that you can still hear in her voice.
Those three things are the heart of the eulogy. The room will recognise her the moment you describe one of them. Mothers in particular live in the small private details. Find them first.
What to actually say about her
Tell the room who she was as a person, not only as a mother. She was a daughter, a friend, a wife or partner, a worker, a neighbour. A whole life happened before you arrived, and she had a self that was not entirely yours.
Then tell the room what she was like as a mother, in concrete moments. Not "she was loving." Say "she sat on the edge of my bed every night for the first nine years of my life and asked me three questions about my day, and waited for the answers."
Not "she was strong." Say "she raised four of us on a teacher's salary and I never once heard her say it was hard, even when it obviously was."
Not "she was funny." Say "she could make a stranger in a grocery store laugh inside thirty seconds and we used to time her."
Two or three concrete moments do more than a paragraph of adjectives. Trust this.
A structure you can lean on
Open by acknowledging the room and saying who you are. One or two sentences. Keep it small.
Tell who she was, in plain words. Three to five sentences. This is where you let the room see your honest portrait of her.
Tell two or three short specific stories. The kitchen scene. The waiting at the school gate. The note she left in your lunchbox. The phone call you can still hear. These stories are the eulogy.
Close with what she taught you, and what you carry forward. Be specific here too. Not "she taught me to love." Say "she taught me to send the card, even when it is late, even when nobody else remembered. I send the card now because of her."
Then stop. The closing is short and clean. The room will sit with it.
What to avoid
Avoid the impulse to make her into a saint. Real mothers were complicated, and the room knows it. The eulogy that says she was perfect is the eulogy nobody believes. The eulogy that says she was real, and loved, and yours, is the one people remember.
Avoid the long list of every relationship she had, every place she lived, every job she worked. The obituary covers that. The eulogy is for who she was to you and to the people in the room.
Avoid sympathy card phrases. "She passed away." "She is in a better place." "She is watching over us." Say "she died." Say "I miss her." Say "the house is quieter without her." Plain words land harder.
Avoid making the eulogy about your grief instead of about her. Your grief is real and the room sees it. But the eulogy itself is a portrait of her. Keep returning to her, not to how you feel about losing her.
How to deliver it without losing your composure
Read it out loud at home three times before the day. The first read is the hardest. By the third you will know where the difficult lines are.
Print it large. Double space it. Number the pages in case you drop them.
If you can, mark with a pencil the places where you know you will pause. Pauses are not weakness. They are how a eulogy breathes.
Have a glass of water on the lectern. Drinking water is also a legitimate way to take a long pause.
Pick one trusted person in the front row to be your finisher. Tell them in advance. If you cannot continue, you nod, and they stand up, and they read the rest. You will probably not need them. Knowing they are there is what makes it possible to start.
How long it should be
Three to five minutes is right for a mother's eulogy. About four hundred to seven hundred words.
If multiple children are speaking, coordinate. Three two-minute eulogies from each child is often more powerful than one ten-minute eulogy from one of you.
A short eulogy delivered with love beats a long one delivered with exhaustion. Cut anything you are not sure about. The room will not notice what you left out, only what you said.