When and why did you decide to become an end-of-life doula? 

While I was caring for my elderly friend in what would be the last two years of her life, I experienced firsthand the siloed nature of all the pieces making up our medical system. I was struck by how unprepared for the end-of-life process I was. It seemed all wrong that a general understanding of how to care for the dying was missing from my life, and that of most people I knew.

This was 2017, and it was my tipping point; however, looking back, I see other points in my life that led me to become an end-of-life doula. 

As a child, I would accompany my mum when visiting very sick friends or elderly relations. I always felt nervous that I wouldn’t know what to do or say, but she made it very clear that simply being there would bring some joy and lift their spirits. This experience helped me recognize the simple gift of presence. 

And when I myself became a mother, I was thankful for birth doulas during my pregnancies and deliveries. They brought great comfort as guides and advocates while acting as a bridge between private home life and institutional care. I remember thinking, “There should be something like this at the other end of life.” 

How long have you been doing this type of work?

Officially? I completed my in-person training with INELDA in early 2019. Then I volunteered at a local hospice facility until March 2020, when COVID-19 shut everything down. During lockdown, I found other ways to further my training. In addition to taking an online certificate course at University of Vermont, I connected with two established end-of-life doulas who became my mentors and with whom I met weekly over Zoom. I also met routinely with a small team of seasoned nonprofit leaders to discuss end-of-life issues facing the unhoused in the city. 

I launched my private practice in January 2021 as things started reopening and while I was volunteering at Pathways, a drop-in program in Manhattan that provides respite and services for their guests. There I built relationships with both staff and “regulars,” which led to me providing end-of-life doula care directly to the unhoused. In January 2022, I decided to make unhoused end-of-life needs a priority and founded All’s Well Initiative.

What type of environment do you work in?

Being in New York City, the environments in which I find myself are almost as diverse as my death doula responsibilities. I might be in someone’s apartment or a long-term care facility, visiting a hospital room or a hospice setting, leading a workshop in a fellowship hall, talking about end-of-life options over coffee at a drop-in center, or maybe I’m fielding phone calls from my own home, making final arrangements while also making dinner. 

What do you do before you meet with a new client?

Meditate and pray. This helps me to process the knowledge I may already have of the client while also putting it aside. I want to be as open as possible when I meet them. I make sure what I’m wearing is neutral, relaxed, and suited to the circumstances. Before entering the space, whether physical or virtual, I remind myself to breathe; I prepare to receive. For new clients and existing clients alike, when I am with them, I am fully present. I pay close attention to verbal and nonverbal communication as well as to the various people and places involved in their care. This is how I become attuned to the whole person and can respond to the end-of-life needs of each individual. 

Can you share a short anecdote or insight that changed you?

My husband was diagnosed with cancer while my children were still toddlers. The existential, practical, and financial challenges surrounding his surgery and radiation treatments were staggering. During this familial crisis and recovery, I was surprised by the support we received…mostly that it came from unexpected people and places. I found that community really does form around need and not necessarily by way of those who are closest to you.

Who has been one of your teachers or mentors?

I am fortunate to have been mentored by two extraordinary end-of-life doulas.

From the moment we met, Virginia Chang has been a steadfast support and shining example. We hold weekly meetings, which began in early 2020, to share stories, compare notes, ask questions—basically showing up for each other while also talking shop. She has more than once taken me under her wing and brought me to assist at her clients’ deathbeds. Her wisdom, insights, and compassion continue to inspire me.

I cannot mention Virginia without also acknowledging the profound influence of Harriet Cohen. A staunch advocate for the unhoused—especially their end-of-life needs—Harriet has imparted to me her vast working knowledge of New York City and best practices surrounding after-death care for those with no known family. She has been an integral part of the journey with All’s Well Initiative.

What do you wish you had known when you started as a doula?

To be ready for the internal challenges and personal work you will do along the way and probably forever. This is a good and important part of our doula work, not an aberration. 

After a death, for those left behind, pause and recalibration are needed to continue living well. It is part of my role to facilitate and protect that pause, not only for my clients’ loved ones, but also for myself. After the intensity of caring for a client and those in initial grief, sometimes taking the lead on next-of-kin queries and posthumous logistics, when it’s time for me to dial down, I turn to my art practice. It has accompanied and sustained me from the beginning, though I didn’t see at the start how integral it would become to my end-of-life work.

Do you have any words of encouragement for fellow doulas?

We are led in different ways to different aspects of this work. It takes time to deepen our practice and remain open to where we can serve best. And don’t despair, because nothing is wasted. 

What is your dream for your practice or doulas in general?

When I started All’s Well Initiative I considered whether the organization should be for-profit or not-for-profit. Ultimately I decided that for-profit work allowed me to spend my time doing what I do best—not fundraising or grant-writing, but offering the same high-level end-of-life care to those who require accompaniment at the time they need it most. 

Whether we have a Park Avenue penthouse or no address whatsoever, no one should face death alone. The nature of our medical system is based upon scaling service to as many people as possible. That is not a bad thing, but it necessitates a systematized and less than personal approach. At the end of life, we need quality more than quantity. We need slow attention, not speed to action.

That means that my approach is simply unsustainable at scale, so I guess I hope that what I can create is a model whereby people can join me. Be it as a movement or as a coworker, my hope and plan is to continue to develop a network of like-minded death doulas. All’s Well’s role is to model and provide feasible on-ramps for them to show up for our marginalized neighbors. One of the biggest challenges facing the unhoused and the organizations that already support them is the loss of contact with folks as they enter the hospital system and don’t come out. We can be substantial help to maintain connection between these individuals and their communities, to advocate and accompany them on their end-of-life journey.