I’ve been thinking a lot about grief lately—not how to get rid of it, fix it, or move through it faster, but what might happen if we looked at it differently.

For me, grief has become a little less frightening when I think of it as a visit.

When someone we love dies, we lose the ability to experience them in the ways we’re accustomed to. We can’t hear their voice across the room. We can’t reach for their hand. We can’t see their face or get that familiar text message.

Talking about end-of-life planning is something I do every day, and still, I know how hard it can be to bring up with the people we love most.

This might be the question I get asked most as a death doula: how do I even start this conversation with the people I love?

Not because we do not care. Usually it is the opposite. We care so much that we are afraid of getting it wrong, of saying too much, of making it real.

Even as a death doula, there are times when grief can get the best of me. This month I got news that reminded me that no matter how closely I work with death and grief, I am still very much susceptible to the disabling effects of both. 

There I was just going about living my life when I learned that my dear friend Carrie died. To say this was unexpected is an understatement. It was a heart attack. A heart attack that broke my heart when it took her life.