One memory, ninety seconds
My grandfather kept a coffee can of loose screws in his garage labeled 'might matter someday.' I used to laugh at it. Then, at every crisis of my adult life, the phone would ring and it would be him — because he kept people the same way he kept screws: nothing and no one was ever useless, ever forgotten, ever beyond saving. He was eighty-three years of 'might matter someday.' To him, we all did. That can sits on my workbench now, and it is the fullest thing I own. Goodbye, Pop. You mattered. Every single day, you mattered.
Why it works: One object carries the whole speech, so ninety seconds feels complete instead of cut off.
Customize it: Choose one physical object the person kept or carried, and let what they did with it stand for how they treated people.