I, along with my brother, dad's ex-girlfriend (a term that doesn't do it justice, they were very close for almost twenty years), and all but one of his siblings (the one that hadn't arrived yet) spoke at the funeral. I had nothing prepared, so made it up on the spot. Apparently it was okay, since I received a number of compliments about it; I don't quite remember what I actually said, just what I meant to say. Actually, I think everyone who spoke spoke very well, including my brother, who told me he hadn't prepared anything either.
It was strange being back in the parish where I spent most of my childhood; a lot of things about this trip are bringing back memories.
The worst of the stress is gone; I think I was dreading seeing people and not knowing what to say. Most of all, I was dreading speaking.