I’m A Death Doula. Here’s What I’ve Learned About The End Of Life.

Last spring, while spending time with a man in his 80s, with his wife and two sons at his side, I heard a familiar gurgling sound, the same one my father made during his final hours.

“I know it sounds as if he’s in pain, but he’s not,” I told one of the sons.

“Please keep telling me that,” he said.

I explained that his father wasn’t able to clear secretions from his throat or airway, which produced a rattling sound. I understood his concern and recognized the fear in his eyes. When I was caring for my dad, I assumed he was choking. At the time, I didn’t know that the unsettling noise was a natural part of the dying process.

On a recent Friday, Gaia and I entered a patient’s room that was quieter than the chapel two floors down.

“Have you been talking to your mom?” I asked the family who had gathered around her bed. They were surprised to learn that their mother could hear them. The daughter looked at me and then at her two siblings, her cheeks flushed.

“I guess we need to watch what we say.”

They didn’t know that hearing is generally the last sense to go. 

The following week, I met a patient’s wife and sister-in-law sitting on either side of a man’s bed. They both looked exhausted.

“We don’t want to go home in case he passes away,” his wife said as she petted Gaia.

One of the most surprising things I learned during my doula training is how common it is for patients to wait for their loved ones to leave the room so they won’t witness them taking their last breath. I don’t think most people expect that. On the other hand, some hold on until an unresolved issue is settled. Others wait as long as possible for a loved one to visit them one last time.