I am an ordained interfaith minister and have been a certified professional coach for over twelve years. While my most recent occupation was in executive management, I have assumed many roles throughout my life, all of which shared a common thread: I genuinely love helping people to lead conscious, purposeful lives. And long before ever hearing the term “death doula” or “end-of-life doula,” I was innately drawn and connected to that vocation.

When I was five years old, I found a dead mouse outside my grandparents’ home in Dublin. I was distraught and ran to tell my grandfather, who explained that the mouse had died and gone to heaven. He suggested that we have a funeral for the mouse and told me to go get some cloth from my grandmother. He used the cloth as a shroud for the mouse, then he dug a hole in the ground and laid the mouse inside. My grandfather said some nice words about the little mouse, and let me say some things too. This may seem simple, but it was the beginning of a profound awareness for me. I’m so very thankful that my grandfather took the time to honor my feelings and to show me how to honor life and death.

Over the years, I have had the honor of serving many at the end of life, and each experience unique and profoundly beautiful. My first experiences began during my Senior year at Conval High School, when I was President of the Interact Club. While working as a Dietary Aide at Pheasant Wood Nursing Home after school, I had gotten to know many residents there, especially in the dining room. However, I knew that many never left their rooms, and I learned some rarely, if ever, had family visit. So, I developed an Interact community service project which enabled students to spend time with residents who could not leave their rooms. I spent my senior year there each week and found it deeply rewarding.

While I was in college at Keene State, I was at the hospital bedside of my dear great aunt on her final day. I held her hand and sang songs to her, including one of her favorites, “Be Still, My Soul” (Finlandia). The nurse told me she probably wouldn’t be able to hear me, but tears rolled down my great aunt’s cheeks while I sang. This was goodbye, and it was all going to be okay. I felt a deep sense of awe and peace, knowing I was with her while she was in that liminal space between “here and there.”

A few years later, my husband’s grandmother, Mary spent her last few months on hospice care while living with us in our home. I enjoyed making her meals daily and talking with her about all sorts of things. As Mary approached her final hours, she shared what she saw that changed my life forever: she said that people were waiting for her at a big feast (that only she could see, but couldn’t quite get to). She passed peacefully just a few hours later. That experience is something that remains with me to this day. (This phenomenon is called “nearing death awareness” and you can read more about NDA and Mary’s story here: Nearing Death Awareness)

There have been so many more experiences, just as unique and transformative…and some, deeply personal. I experienced a traumatic pregnancy loss, nearly dying in the process, and I have also walked with my husband through several life-threatening experiences, including a stage IV cancer diagnosis and successful treatment. You cannot truly hold space for death and grief for others, without being able to be present with your own.