I’ve been doing this work since before I had a name for it. I was 9 when my great-aunt Ma Mae died, and even then I understood that our ancestors come back to soften the journey. At 12, I held space for my cousin Maine as he died of AIDS. By 13, I was volunteering in hospice without realizing I was already a death doula. I come from generations of folks who cared for the dying without titles, and I follow their lead. My mission is simple: help people face death with clarity, dignity, and community. I hold space emotionally, physically, and spiritually so no one walks blindly into their final moments or their grief. I do this work to make death a celebration of life, and to help the living return to their lives more whole.