My Writing

My 90 year old friend is sad. He is living with the regret that he is not leaving behind a legacy, a body of work. His friends have authored books and started groups that have become large organizations. My friend is very lovable and loving. Whenever I get to be around him, I am happy. He is very intelligent and knowledgeable about literary things, and I always feel just a bit smarter after leaving his company. He is trying to forgive himself for not doing more. He is trying

A friend in her forties almost died recently from an accidental overdose. It reminded me that we never know when death will reach out for us. That thought reminded me of the Fourth Contemplation: "My life span is not fixed. Human life expectancy is uncertain; death can come at any time." The Nine Contemplations, written in the 11th century by the Buddhist monk and scholar Atisha, addresses the twisting, jeweled path of life and ultimately death. They are a quiet warning of th

If I had one wish as an end of life doula, it would to be contacted earlier! The dying person or their caregiver usually wait too long to get the benefits we offer - support and empathy and guidance. Just like hospice is called in too late and can only do crisis-level care, end of life doulas are also called in too late. Recently I was called by a birth doula about her dear, dying friend, who really needed some help articulating her final wishes and support to get on hospice

Do you think you can escape death? Intellectually, we know we will die. But we put off fully facing this because, for most of our lives, it is more of an abstract idea than a reality. I find it helpful to listen to people for whom death is not an abstraction. I learn so much from them. One dear woman told me that as her body declines, she notices her heart's capacity to love is increasing. I love that. The Nine Contemplations, written in the 11th century by the Buddhist monk

I recently told my death story while being interviewed by the Elisabeth Kubler Ross Foundation. It was the first time I told the entire story. By young adulthood, I had gone through expected deaths; that of my grandparents and an uncle. But I was not prepared for violent, sudden death. My twenties would teach me a lot. When I was in college, a woman lefty, feminist community was stabbed to death as she lay sleeping, by a misogynist psycho. Our Take Back the Night March that