Crystal Potter

After my mother died, I fell into a deep depression. The kind where you don’t shower, eat, or even get out of bed. I took a leave of absence from my job, knowing I had to make a change—I had to start living my life on my own terms. I left the comfort and security of my job with no idea what I was going to do.

 

During my time with my mother, I realized something profound: when people are dying, they need a place to talk about their experience, their fears, their mortality. I wasn't able to be that person for my mom. I censored my own discomfort with mortality, just as so many others do. It’s uncomfortable—to be uncomfortable. But the dying need us to make space for them to be real about it.

 

I was a grieving daughter, yes, but I also knew that I could be that person for others. Death—our own, or someone else's—is something we all shy away from. People, even the medical professionals sometimes, get awkward, uncomfortable, or just try to “fix” grief when there is nothing to fix. Grieving and dying don’t need fixing; they just are.

 

I feel that being present with my mother in those final moments was such a gift. And after my grief, I realized that offering that same gift to others—being there with someone at the end of their life—would be just as sacred.

 

I once came across a question that changed everything for me: “What must I do to be at peace with myself so that I may live peacefully and die graceful—at the same time?” I ask myself that question every day now. And that is why I became a death doula. And why I truly love helping others.

 

When we acknowledge our own mortality, we realize that we are not the center of the story. Life will go on without us. It’s disheartening, unsettling and disquieting to our fragile egos. It’s a truth we would rather avoid, because it exposes how powerless we truly are. But this, too, is part of the human experience. And as uncomfortable as it is, it's exactly why we need to talk about death.