Meet Vanessa Johnston

“I’ve always been comfortable with the uncomfortable,” says Vanessa, who entered the world of end-of-life dou- las almost inadvertently.

Formerly a high school English teacher, Vanessa describes herself as someone drawn to those going through transitions and someone who enjoys a robust appreciation for stories.

Although teaching had been a rewarding experi- ence, in 2015, Vanessa was herself in transition, seeking another career path to follow. At that juncture, either by happy coincidence or perhaps fate, a friend of a friend sought her out for a very special assignment.

“At the time, they said they were looking for an assis- tant,” she says, “that’s the term they used.” In fact, the role they were asking Vanessa to take on was caring for a gentleman who had been given his life deadline.

“I was quick to explain that I had no medical training at all; however, if they were looking for someone to serve as a compassionate companion then I could do that,” she says. “I was with that gentleman for two-and- a-half years, and it was during that time that I came across the term end-of-life doula. I thought, ‘Ah, that’s what I’ve been doing!’”

Naturally, she was anxious to learn more about this newly discovered title and what it encompassed. The more she learned, the more apparent it became that it is what she was born to do.

Vanessa eagerly submerged herself in her new- found destiny, augmenting her instinctual talents and skills with structured training. Soon, her business was formed, and clients seemed to miraculously find her.

In truth, there wasn’t really anything miraculous about this influx of patrons, for Vanessa’s reputation for empathy and sincere interest in the life stories of others served as a magnet to those whose expiration date had been set.

When it was over, the hospice nurse asked Nicole where she had received her training, which made her wonder how elders are dying in the community. According to the nurse, most people were passing alone and frightened.

Meet Nicole Matarazzo

“My initiation to the death and dying world arrived in the mid-1990s,” says Nicole Matarazzo. “I was a childhood specialist working in pediatrics as a Child Life Specialist tending to children dying of AIDS and cancer.” She also spent some time working with marrow transplant patients “where many of those I was assigned to were dying. They were children as well.”

“I have to admit I wasn’t expecting to be so involved with so much death.” Nicole recounts, “I mean there was an expectation that some patients would die, but I didn’t anticipate it being at such a magnitude.”

Moving out of that area to something that wasn’t quite so intense, Nicole found herself teaching and then studying massage therapy. She worked in this field for several years before she began her family. After experiencing home births with her own children, Nicole began assisting friends.

“When I was in my late 20s, I had my first child; that opened the door to the experience of birthing a baby at home,” she recalls. “In the comfort of my own home, with a nurse midwife, the birth of my first child was an experience of pure awe and wonder. I was a little bit of a pioneer at that time, bringing something old back to the present. I considered myself incredibly fortunate to be assisting friends while bringing new life into the world.” Nicole sees a comparison between life and death. “Though it might sound incongruous, as I watched my child take her first breath, that experience was very similar to holding all those children taking their last breath as a Child Life Specialist,” she recalls. “The sacred and silent space as the mystery of life and death makes itself known. There is a very brief moment of time when all is silent and still as the mystery of life and death are revealed.”

As a Death Midwife, Nicole feels just as fortunate to support individuals in preparation for the end of their lives alongside their loved ones. Nicole describes the feeling of bringing life into the world and ushering life out as “utter awe of what lives outside of us, what lives beyond us, and that exposure to the mystery.”

Then, about eight years ago, a very dear friend asked her to walk her through the end of her life. “She was diagnosed with terminal cancer,” says Nicole, “and I felt incredibly privileged to walk beside her, caring for her in her most vulnerable and intimate moments. Her daughter and I shared that role and I learned so many things about the heart and soul during that experience. She is the reason I became a Death Midwife.”

Nicole spent about a year supporting her friend during her illness and as she transitioned from this life to the next. “That moment reawakened a soulful and tender place in me, that moment of cross- ing the threshold from this life to another,” she shares, “the magic, the mystery, the love, the suffering that reveals itself, the connection, the sacredness, it was all so very present in that moment.

After allowing herself time to mourn her friend’s death, she recalls wondering what her next step would be. “Colors were brighter, I was able to breathe a little deeper, things had shifted inside of me, and I’d crossed a threshold in my grieving. I felt a little more open to what could be next for me,” she explains. “It was such a profound experience.”

Meet Veronica Wiley (they/them/theirs)

The newest of our four angels to join the battalion of compassionate caregivers known as End-of-Life Doulas, Veronica Wiley discovered their true destiny shortly after the death of their beloved father.

“Noticing how difficult it was for my family and my father’s friends to sit with him before he passed and the resistance to the conversations around what choices needed to be made and what options were available, I wanted to be there to help other families navigate what is often a traumatic time,” Veronica explains.

Veronica’s experience with their father’s hospitalization and subsequent passing was not only emotionally devastating but it left Veronica at a surprising and confusing crossroads in their career path. In graduate school, studying for their MBA, Veronica was overcome with the realization that there was a greater calling.

“There’s nothing like being halfway through your master’s degree and suddenly realizing ‘I might be in the wrong program,’” Veronica quips with droll humor. “After rather deep conversations with my program director and advisor and because of the uniqueness of what was beckoning me, they helped me customize my capstone project around where I wanted to focus. That, of course, was end-of-life care.”

Veronica goes on to say that they hadn’t been aware of the term End-of-Life Doula in passing. “Until I began researching, I hadn’t realized it was an actual profession, with training,” Veronica recounts. “While looking into that and looking for ways to relate it to the Outdoor Industry, which was the focus for my program, I also started looking at ecotherapy or nature therapy to facilitate terminal patients.”

Ultimately, Veronica paved the way for a new and exciting course of study and a one- of-a-kind capstone project at Western Col- orado University. As a new MBA graduate with a heart full of longing to bring peace to the dying and their families, Veronica founded Outside Rites.

The mission statement for the new endeavor clearly outlines Veronica’s passion for a heretofore unrealized dream.

“To transform perceptions and experiences of dying by facilitating conversations, activities, & practices that embrace human death as part of nature through the incorporation of death doula services, ecotherapy, and yogic teachings while promoting equitable access to quality end-of-life and death care.”

An ambitious undertaking for anyone at any age, Veronica let their heart lead the way to provide this unique and irreplaceable service to families such as their own, who are experiencing the heart-rending dilemma of how to care for the terminally ill and their loved ones.

Veronica might be the youngest and newest doula in our group, but the historical strides they have made in bringing this fascinating profession to the forefront of our social conscience is undeniable.

“For me, this is such a fulfilling experience being able to provide support for people while they are in that transition phase,” Veronica says. “I remember when my dad was in the hospital and how little preparation we had for what was coming. Even in the conversations with doctors, there were disagreements among the various teams of doctors about what was happening. There were a couple of doctors who kept insisting, right up until four or five days before we got him on hospice, that if we just got him to a rehab facility that he would be fine.”

As Veronica knows too well, it is every family member’s desire to acknowledge, and, whenever possible, grant their loved one’s dying wishes. Whether this is an environment, the people attending, or any other request, we long to make that request a reality. With little knowledge, support or resources, this becomes increasingly difficult.

“My dad wanted to die in his own backyard,” says Veronica. “While my family and I were able to get him discharged home from the hospital, we lacked the knowledge and logistics to fully meet his wishes.”

Meet Sara Aumann

Most of us have suffered the pain of losing someone close. We understand the toll it takes on us not only emotionally but often physically as well. For Sara Aumann, this harrowing experience came like a landslide, losing not one or two, but 10 loved ones over the course of about 15 months.

There was virtually no time between each death to regroup or recover. “It was overwhelming to lose so many family members in rapid succession,” Sara says. “The most significant of these were my two brothers, my father, and grandfather.”

Having just returned from China where she had been living and working, these deaths had her reeling, and she was on a spiritual journey trying to make sense of it all.

“I think I explored almost every spiritual path known,” Sara says. “I revisited the Buddhist ideology as well as many others. Then I discovered that becoming a doula seemed to embrace and combine all the things that I used to console myself through my own grief.”

Unlike the others we visited, Sara is a psychic medium, and she is quite comfortable communicating and relating to those who have crossed over and routinely helps others who are seeking answers or just comfort.

In addition, as an energy worker, Sara facilitates and empowers individuals and entire corporate teams to create their own strategic self-care. Her positive energy is both uplifting and inspirational.

“My first memory of being with death is 1987 when my grandma, Jeanne, was dying at home in the living room,” she recalls. “I would go sit on her hospital bed, stroke her thinning hair, and sing to her ... I was 3 years old. This was a foreshadowing of a much harder time to come in 2016 when I lost two brothers, my father, grandfather, and a pregnancy.”