How to not break down halfway through — and what to do when you nearly do.

Every list on this subject says the same five useless things: keep calm, look at the crowd, blink, take a break, practise. Here is what actually happens and what to do about it.

Why the voice goes

Grief closes the throat on the inhale. You are speaking, emotion rises, you keep speaking through it on a shrinking breath, and by the end of the sentence you have no air left — so the voice cracks and then stops. It is not a failure of composure. It is a failure of breath, and breath is something you can plan.

Mark the breaths on the paper. Then take them.

Do this to the printed page tonight

• put a slash where you will breatheOne slash every eight to twelve words, always at a comma or a full stop. When you get there, actually stop and take air. Reading a eulogy on held breath is what makes people sound like they are drowning.
• shorten the sentences that matter mostLong sentences need long breath, and long breath is the first thing to go. The two or three lines that mean the most should be the shortest lines on the page. “He taught me to drive in a car park in the rain.” You can say that with almost no air.
• find your two lines and mark themThere are always two — you already know which. Usually the last thing they said to you, and the sentence with the word “dad” or “mum” in it. Write PAUSE in the margin above both, in capitals. You are not avoiding the feeling; you are giving it somewhere planned to land.
• write your restart line at the bottom of every pageOne short instruction to yourself, in a different colour: “stop. breathe. look at one person. carry on.” When you lose it, you will not be able to think. You will be able to read.

What to do at the lectern

• before the first word, three seconds of nothingPut the paper down, both hands flat on the lectern, look up, breathe out fully — out, not in — and then start. Most people start on the walk up, out of breath, and never recover.
• one person, not ninetyPick someone in the third row who is kind and not immediate family. Say the whole thing to them. Faces of your own children or your surviving parent will take you down inside a sentence; do not look at them until the end.
• when it comes, stop completelyDo not push through on a closed throat — that is when the voice goes altogether. Stop. Lower the paper. Breathe twice. The room will wait, and they will not mind: they are on your side, entirely, in a way you will only understand afterwards. Ten seconds of silence feels like a minute to you and like nothing to them.
• the physical trick that worksPress your tongue hard to the roof of your mouth, or your thumbnail into your index finger. A small deliberate physical sensation interrupts the rise. Sipping water works for the same reason, so have a glass there — ask the funeral director tonight, they will just put one out.
• if you truly cannot continueHand the paper to the person you asked in advance and sit down. Ask someone tonight — a cousin, the celebrant — and tell them: if I stop and look at you, read from where I stopped. Having that arranged is the single biggest reduction in fear available to you, because the worst case now has a floor.

Two things not to do

Do not take a beta blocker or a drink you have not taken before, on the one day you cannot repeat. And do not rehearse it twenty times to desensitise yourself — that empties the words out, and the room hears a recital. Read it aloud twice: once tonight, once the morning of. That is enough.

One last thing, because nobody says it: if you cry, the eulogy still worked. People do not remember a wobbling voice as a failure. They remember it as the moment it was obvious you meant it.

• How do I not cry while giving a eulogy?

  Treat it as a breathing problem, not a composure problem. Mark a breath every eight to twelve words on the printed page and actually take them, keep the most emotional lines the shortest on the page, write PAUSE above the two lines you know will get you, and look at one kind person in the third row rather than at family.

• What if I break down and can’t finish the eulogy?

  Stop completely, lower the paper, breathe twice — the room will wait and will not mind. Write a restart instruction at the bottom of every page so you have something to read when you cannot think. And arrange a backup reader in advance: tell one person that if you stop and look at them, they should continue from where you stopped.

• Is it bad to cry during a eulogy?

  No. Crying is not what people remember as a failure; they remember it as proof you meant it. The thing worth preparing for is not being able to continue, which is mechanical and fixable with marked breaths, short sentences and a planned backup reader.