Held with Grace - AU

11/08/2026

We need to be more like dolphins, a beautiful community in the sea and on the land https://www.instagram.com/reel/Dbr_yuphqUA/?utm_source=ig_web_copy_link&igsh=NTc4MTIwNjQ2YQ==

11/08/2026

10/08/2026

Last week I held an 80th birthday in an aged care home.

We hired an incredible pianist, had special Asian food, danced, sang, and there were tears of joy. Pure joy.

Yesterday I watched a group of artists perform for their dear friend and fellow artist Michael, and his wife, both local Fitzroy retailers. They were outrageously funny, witty and absolutely full of love for him and everyone in that room.

When I first walk into some of these communities my heart feels a little sad. But in time I hear their stories. I discover the deep love and connection that can be created even in the hardest of circumstances.

People who cannot speak or seem completely locked away will sing every word and weep when live music fills the room.

It seems so simple really.

And maybe it is.

heldwithgrace.com.au

01/08/2026

Every week looks different in this work.

This week I watched two women meet for the first time in five years.

Cindy and Glenda met at the gym twenty years ago. Three times a week without fail, and pancakes at the Goat House every Friday. Then illness and a lack of transport got in the way. Getting somewhere safely when you are older and unwell sounds simple until you are the one doing it. A stranger in an Uber or taxi is not always a safe or comfortable option.

Yesterday they had their pancakes again.

Cindy came to me through Social Health Australia, where I volunteer fortnightly. I am also in the middle of planning an 80th birthday, and getting completely lost in the wonderful menu options with Chef Stephanie at Mr Wong. There are worse problems to have.

This is the other side of aged care and companionship that nobody talks about. The joy. The reconnection. The pancakes.

I feel so lucky to do this work.

heldwithgrace.com.au

23/07/2026

A family I have been walking alongside came to a moment this week that none of us forget.

After a fall and a trip to emergency, the hospital wanted to keep him in. His bloods were a mess. Medically it made sense.

But he was crying. Confused. Exhausted. Longing for home.

His wife looked at the situation clearly and said: we will do this from home. I need him comfortable and safe in an environment he knows.

That day the palliative care team came to them. Nurses rotated through the week. Everything became calm, familiar and loved.

He passed away at home this week, with his wife and his family around him.

That is what options and choices look like in practice. Not a medical decision made under pressure in a fluorescent corridor. A human decision made with love, with information, and with the courage to say what he actually needed.

In the hardest moments, when fear and exhaustion and judgment creep in, knowing your options changes everything.

It fills my heart with joy to be part of that.

heldwithgrace.com.au

07/07/2026

This is the other side of aged care.
Bright, full of life, and nothing like what most people imagine when they hear those two words.
I visit aged care and retirement living communities across Melbourne's eastern suburbs every week. Some of them are genuinely wonderful. Warm staff, beautiful spaces, residents who are still completely themselves.
The system has real problems. The bed shortage is real. The wait times are real. But the people inside these places? Often extraordinary.
If you are starting to look for the right place for a parent and don't know where to begin, DM me. I have no financial relationship with any facility. I just know what I have seen.
heldwithgrace.com.au

16/06/2026

People ask me why someone in aged care needs a death doula when there are staff there to care for them.

It is a fair question.

The staff are extraordinary. They manage medications, meals, hygiene, mobility, safety. They are busy and they are skilled and the work they do is relentless.

But managing someone's care is different to seeing them.

I am there to sit with her. To notice that she is trying to get out of bed and needs a hand. That her dinner is in the wrong room with the light off. That her soup would be easier from a cup. That she wants her hair tied back. That she is hungry and proud and funny and still very much herself.

Her daughter lives overseas. She cannot be there. So I am there instead, not as a carer, not as a coordinator, but as the person whose only job is to see her mum.

That is what a death doula does in aged care.

If someone you love is in aged care and you cannot always be there, I am here.

heldwithgrace.com.au · 0426 670 402

28/05/2026

A few weeks ago I sat in a cinema and watched a documentary that said out loud everything I see every day in my work.

Careless, directed by Melbourne filmmaker Sue Thomson, is now on Netflix. If you work in health, aged care, or end-of-life care, or if you have a parent — please watch it.

The film follows older Australians determined to stay out of aged care and grow old on their own terms. At its heart is Sue's own journey helping her 89-year-old mother stay at home and out of the system.

The conversation after the film was one of the most honest I have heard in a public setting about what families are actually navigating. Not the system in theory. The system as it is actually experienced.

The thing that does not change, no matter how many times I hear it: families do not know they have options until someone sits down with them and tells them.

That is the work. Before the crisis. At the kitchen table. With a cup of tea.

Careless is on Netflix now. Watch it and share it.

Thank you for the evening and for this film. 💙

21/05/2026

Sometimes the most important thing is just being there.

Not fixing. Not explaining. Not offering a list of resources or a five-step plan or a brochure.

Just sitting beside someone.

A lot of what I do looks, from the outside, like nothing at all. I sit in a chair next to a bed. I hold a hand. I ask a quiet question. I let a long silence stay long.

We have lost the skill of being with each other in hard moments. We rush to make it better. We fill the air with words. We change the subject the moment it gets uncomfortable.

The people I sit with do not need that. They need someone who will stay in the room when it gets hard, and not look away.

If that is what you, or someone you love, need right now, I am here.

heldwithgrace.com.au