i found it

in deep retrospect, this work was always the path for me.

i was always meant to provide comfort and support to the dying and their families.

i've made a quiet, obsessive study of death and dying since my youth, quelling my fears and creating space for uncertainty within myself.

i'm the child who hid copies of the dhammapada and the dao de jing under their bed to read at night because their parents couldn't find out they were reading a religious text other than the bible,

the kid who left large groups of people to sit alone in the corner or room next door to regulate and/or read a book.

the teen exiting crowded rooms to meditate in the bedroom upstairs, only to come back downstairs to clean up after the party, and

the young, twenty-something using the well-practiced skill of active and empathetic listening to ease the minds and hearts of friends and strangers alike.

i'm the thirty-five-year-old adult who has shepherded friends, family, and loved ones through death more than a handful of times.

i have told families what to expect. how to know. what to listen to and look for. how to give comfort. how to comfort themselves. how to ask for help, and how to receive it.

i have wiped the tears, cleaned the secretions, picked the dried rheum, and moisturized the scabbing faces of dying loved ones.

i have fixed their bedding, gently bathed their bodies with a dampened cloth, and massaged dry shampoo into their hair.

i have held their hands and listened to their breath fade, while watching their bodies become still.

each death feels unique.

each death feels challenging.

each death feels sacred.

i've been in the caregiving field for decades, trying to find the perfect niche...

in-home healthcare.

companion care.

babysitting.

education.

finally, i know.

i'm a death doula.