As a professional project manager, I default to running through worst case scenarios – as they say sometimes the best laid plans go awry. As a death doula, I am trained to help the dying lay out plans as best as possible given all the anticipated scenarios. It is my goal to honor their final wishes – to aid them in dying a good death.
I have found myself imagining what it would be like to work with a doula to scope out my remaining days. I know that I’d want to work with a doula to give my loved ones space to grieve. To organize opportunities for those that call me friend and family to spend time with me, to help me around the apartment, to liquidate my belongings, to make plans for my beloved cat, and to organize a living funeral party.
There will be plenty to delegate and this delegation takes time and energy. Time and energy that I won’t have and time and energy that I do not want to put on my people.
- How are my finances looking? Hopefully I’ve kept things tidy for you all!
- Is all my paperwork organized in a central location? Look for the purple accordion file.
- Has my body disposition been planned and paid for? That is my absolute goal, I promise.
Working with a doula will also give me the support I need to organize legacy work like sorting photographs and writing last letters and filming last words and making something special for my nieces and nephews.
They will be that someone to take requests on how I’d like my environment to smell and sound and look like – who I would like in the space and when.
Please bring in your mugs of coffee and bunches of fresh cut lilacs or jasmine – if they are in bloom of course. And when the weather is nice, please open a window so I can feel the breeze. Please organize my favorite movie scores onto a playlist. A cacophony of pieces by Hans Zimmer, John Williams, Howard Shore, Dario Marianelli, Randy Edelman and Trevor Jones. Please read to me pages from The Hobbit and Alice in Wonderland and Weetzie Bat. Please sing to me – sing me songs that remind you of our time together, a memory or a feeling. Please make sure my cat has a nice space to curl up on my bed. I would love to hear and feel him purring nearby.
And if you aren’t sure what to sing or speak or if you feel scared or sad or frozen, look for my doula. My body-guard. As the train of my body begins to slow down into life’s last station – my doula will be nearby guarding my vision for these last hours, days, weeks, and months. They will show you how to gently brush my hair, put unscented lotion on my extremities, or moisten my lips. They will remind you that you can make yourself a mug of tea and curl up close to me and hold my hand. That you can recount a memory for me or softly cry with your head on my shoulder. That you can help clean and dress my body once the silver thread has been severed – my soul detaching itself from its temporary corporeal home. Please dress me in loose linens and don’t fret about jewels or rouge or curls or even one of those pricey coffins. I will be laid to rest where the sunshine and rain will together slowly encourage my decomposition and reunion with the elements that once created me.
You’ve cared for me and you’ve laid my body to rest. You’ve been a huge help and my doula will remind you of this. They will check on you and the others. My doula knows that that is what mattered to me – to make sure you have space to grieve. They can connect you with a grief counselor if you’d like somebody to talk to. Or they can spend some time with you reflecting on my death. Just know that they will be available for you to lean on if the grief gets too heavy. I hope it isn’t too heavy. I hope you get lots of rest and let the love we shared ripple out into your life. And I hope you too would consider finding yourself a doula.