11/28/2025
Gabby worded this so beautifully. This is why I’m involved with end of life care.
When I tell people what I do, the response is almost always the same: “How can you do that, it must be so hard.” I understand why they say it, because what I do is hard.
Working in end-of-life care means bearing witness to death. I have been present for over one thousand last breaths, and for just as many last goodbyes. Many people reading this know that experience; and many others cannot imagine it. But just like any calling, any profession, any skill, we are each shaped for something unique. We all carry gifts that allow us to stand in places others may not be able to. I am not the only one.
What I want people to understand, though, is that I don’t just see death or grief. I witness culture, ritual, and faith that often leaves me in awe. I see the kind of strength people draw from belief systems I am still trying to fully understand. I see complicated family dynamics too, some tender, some painful, and I remind myself that my role is not to fix, but to honor what is present. And sometimes I see relationships so full of love that a part of me aches, because I never had that. Yet even in that ache, I am comforted by knowing such love exists.
What I see, over and over again, is love, every shade, every expression, every way a human being shows up in the face of the inevitable. I see how people react, how they lean in, how they prepare themselves for the mystery of what comes next. I am not just invited to be present for the most fragile, most intimate, and most personal part of life, I am trusted to be there, and that means everything to me.
Death opens the door to the deepest parts of who we are, our traditions, our faith, our sorrow, our tenderness, our love, and in witnessing it all, I am shown life.
So no, I don’t just see death, I see life, and I am grateful every day that I get to witness this.
xo
Gabby
Hospice/palliative care nurse, end-of-life doula
www.thehospiceheart.net
