05/06/2026
This is a really good read. It’s an honor, every time. We hurt beside you. We take something from each soul we walk home.
Someone asked me if I still feel anything when someone dies, or if I have become numb to death after all the years I’ve spent in end-of-life care, and all the goodbyes and deaths I have witnessed. The question caught me off guard, not because it was offensive, but because it reminded me of how misunderstood this work can be.
The truth is that I feel everything. I always have. What time and experience has changed is not the depth of my feeling, but my relationship to it. I’ve sat at the bedside of so many people as they take their last breaths and I have held hands, whispered final words, witnessed love, fear, surrender, and grace. These moments don’t numb you; they shape you and they soften you. And eventually, they bring you to a quiet place of peace with death itself.
I don’t sit in discomfort. I don’t rush to fix what can’t be fixed. I show up with presence, with reverence, and with a deep understanding that this, too, is part of life. When you’ve been in the room enough times, you stop trying to resist what’s happening, and you learn to honor it.
Making peace with death doesn’t mean I am detached or unfeeling, it means I have found a steadiness within myself, a kind of sacred pause that allows me to be fully present. I am not overwhelmed. I am not trying to make sense of it or avoid the weight of it. I am just there, grounded, bearing witness without judgment, without needing to rescue or retreat. It’s not about being numb, it’s about knowing exactly where I am and why it matters so much.
I have made peace with death; not just as a part of my work, but as a part of life. I accept its presence, both personally and professionally, and I am prepared for it in ways that don’t make me less emotional, only less afraid. My experience has gently shaped me, teaching me how to sit with those who are dying and those who are grieving, to hold space in the sacred stillness of a final breath. And while I’ve grown familiar with death, I hope I never grow numb to its significance. Each goodbye remains holy. Each moment, a quiet reminder of how deeply we are connected.
Even after all this time, I still believe that death deserves our presence, not our fear.
xo
Gabby
You can find this blog here:
https://www.thehospiceheart.net/post/death-deserves-our-presence-not-our-fear
