What does a Death Doula actually do?

What Does a Death Doula Actually Do?

Q&A with Elsabe Nomad

When I tell people I want to be a death doula, the reactions are almost always the same:

Confusion. Curiosity. Sometimes discomfort.

And often, this:

“You don’t look the type.”

So let’s talk about it.

Because death work is sacred. It’s personal. It’s misunderstood.

And for me, it’s not just a calling—it’s the shape of the life I’ve lived.

Q: What is a death doula, exactly?

A death doula is someone who supports a person emotionally, spiritually, and practically as they approach the end of life.

We don’t replace doctors or hospice nurses—we walk beside them.

We’re there to provide presence, ritual, comfort, and calm.

We help people say goodbye. We help families make meaning.

We don’t try to “fix” death. We honour it.

Q: Do you have to be qualified or licensed?

There are trainings and certifications, yes—but it’s still an unregulated field in most countries.

More important than paperwork is this: empathy, experience, stillness, and the ability to sit in discomfort without flinching.

You don’t learn how to do this work from a textbook.

You learn it by living close to loss.

Q: Isn’t it heavy? Don’t you carry all that grief with you?

I carry it, yes—but it doesn’t crush me.

I’ve already known grief intimately.

I lost my first real love to suicide.

I lost my brother—my soulmate, my immortal.

I’ve stood beside friends, family and strangers as they crossed over.

And then, the deepest loss: my grandson.

The pain of that still sits inside me, like a stone at the bottom of a river.

But then came my father.

I sat with him to the very end, and I knew—I was meant to do this.

This is holy work.

I heal as I serve the dying.

That’s not a slogan. It’s my truth.

Q: What kinds of things do you actually do for someone who’s dying?

Sometimes I sit in silence. Sometimes I listen to stories.

I help people write letters to loved ones.

I guide families through the dying process, so they don’t feel lost or afraid.

I hold hands. I sing softly. I help plan vigils, sacred rituals, simple goodbyes.

I remind people that dying doesn’t have to be cold, clinical, or lonely.

It can be full of meaning. It can even be beautiful.

Q: Who hires a death doula? Is this just for people with money?

Not at all.

Anyone facing death—whether it’s a terminal diagnosis, old age, or a sudden shift—can benefit.

Some people hire doulas privately. Others offer the role as a gift to a loved one.

Sometimes I do the work simply because I’m called to it.

Compassion doesn’t check your bank balance.

Q: Why do you do this? Haven’t you lost enough already?

Yes. I’ve lost more than most.

But that’s why I do this.

Grief didn’t break me.

It carved me.

Made me softer in the right places and stronger where it matters most.

Death work didn’t pull me away from life. It brought me closer to it.

Q: Is this your dream? Really?

Yes.

Strange as it sounds to some—this is my dream.

To be present for the leaving.

To hold space where others flee.

To honour life, even as it slips away.

Because love doesn’t end when the body does.

And no one should ever have to die feeling unseen.

If you’ve made it this far, thank you.

If you’re grieving, curious, afraid, or simply open—thank you.

We’re all heading the same way, one day.

The only question is: who will be there to walk us home?