Declue Funeral Home Obits (2026)

When she finished, the obituary was 1,400 words. Far too long for the Willow Creek Gazette . But she printed it anyway, and Sarah taped it to the funeral home’s front door.

Henry Declue, her husband of fifty-two years, had died that morning. Same heart that had carried her over every threshold, stopped mid-sentence while buttering toast. declue funeral home obits

Margaret kept going, not as an obituary, but as a letter. She wrote about the time Henry refinanced the funeral home’s mortgage to buy a stray dog a $4,000 surgery. About how he sang off-key to every body he prepared, saying, “Can’t send ‘em off in silence.” About the way he held her hand at the movies even when his arthritis screamed. When she finished, the obituary was 1,400 words

Margaret Declue had written over two thousand obituaries. For thirty years, she’d sat at the same oak desk in the back of Declue Funeral Home, translating grief into graceful prose. She knew the rhythms: Beloved husband of… passed peacefully… surrounded by family… Henry Declue, her husband of fifty-two years, had

She added: He died at home, drinking bad coffee and telling a joke about a priest and a duck.

Margaret adjusted her glasses. “Who else knows him?”