What Does Dying Mean to a Five Year Old?
At five years old I had no concept of death. When I saw my dad laying in his casket at the funeral home I thought he was sleeping. I didn’t realize it was permanent. I ran around the casket thinking it was a game we were playing; pulling myself up on tiptoes to look in at him and wondering why his face was frozen.
Bringing Maggie’s Body Home
I understand why it is so important that we become more comfortable with death; it lessens the fear. Witnessing the beauty of Maggie’s home funeral will play a part in future decisions for my other beloved pets. It also confirms the plan I have for the disposition of my own body when I die.
My Journey to Become an End of Life Doula
My journey to become an end of life doula as well as a hospice nurse began after Christmas 1995 when my grandpa found out he had metastatic lung cancer with a grim prognosis.