How Loss Became My Calling
I remember the first time I walked out of my hospice volunteer training. I called my partner immediately, my voice filled with an excitement I hadn't felt in years. "I just felt in my body that this is what I'm supposed to do," I told him. I had goosebumps, and all I could see was the beauty behind this incredible organization. How special was it that families were going to allow me into their homes, to be with them and their loved ones during such a difficult and vulnerable time?
But to understand how I got to that moment, I need to go back a little further.
Where It All Started
When my dad passed in 2018, I had the idea to volunteer with hospice. I've always been drawn to careers where I could make meaningful connections with people and animals. I'm not sure why, but helping others has always brought me joy. Life had other plans though, and I didn't end up following through with hospice volunteering at that time.
In 2022, everything changed. My Noni, who had raised me, was diagnosed with bile duct cancer and started chemotherapy. By the end of that year, she had stopped chemo and transitioned to palliative care. Unfortunately, she developed pneumonia and was admitted to Mount Carmel Hospital in December 2022.
After trying to treat the pneumonia for several days, the doctors gently told us that hospice care was the best option to keep her comfortable. I remember how kind and gentle her nurses and doctors were during this transition.
The Most Beautiful, Difficult Time
Those two weeks were some of the hardest moments I've ever endured, but they were also some of the most beautiful. I stayed by her side no matter what. My mindset was simple: "She took care of me my whole life, so the least I can do is do the same for her at the end of hers."
During those nights in the hospital when it was just the two of us, we had conversations that I will always hold close to my heart. Things that needed to be said were finally said. We shared laughs, we shared tears, and we shared all the love we had for each other. I will always be grateful for those last couple of weeks we had together, and I truly believe that for me personally, this made accepting the end of her life a little more peaceful.
I felt honored to be able to care for her at the end of her life.
Coming Home
The one day I did leave the hospital to go home for a few hours was when she told her sister she wanted to go home. I remember feeling so grateful that she was able to return home and die there with her beloved cats and surrounded by the family she loved so much. I could see how much calmer and at peace she felt being in her own space.
This experience really opened the door to hospice for me. After she passed a couple of days after we brought her home, I signed up for the February training class for hospice volunteering. As painful as her death was, it opened so many beautiful paths for me. I always say that even though she's not here physically, she's still helping me guide my path.
A New Discovery
I've been volunteering with hospice for two and a half years now and am grateful for every experience and every person I've encountered. Her death truly opened so many doors for me.
At the time, I was working as a cosmetologist at a wonderful salon with wonderful people. One day, I was talking to a coworker about starting my hospice training, and she asked, "Have you ever heard of a death doula?" (Thank you Dakota).
I had heard of birth doulas before, but never death doulas. Once I researched it, everything made perfect sense to me. You have a birth doula to be an advocate and provide emotional support during pregnancy and birth, when new life is coming into the world. Why wouldn't you want someone similar for the end of your life? Just like birth, death is huge, not only for the person dying, but for everyone around them.
Finding My Purpose
After consuming countless YouTube videos, books, and TED talks, I decided I wanted to become a certified death doula. I completed training through IELDA (International End of Life Doula Association) and became certified.
I remember thinking when my Noni was dying, "What if she doesn't make it home? What if she doesn't get to die where she wants? I just want her to get what she wants." Death doulas offer many skills, but I was particularly drawn to the advocacy aspect. I wanted to help people understand that when it comes to their end-of-life transition, they have choices.
They can have a plan in place. They can ask to go home if that's what they want. They can choose to stop treatment and transition to hospice if that feels right. They can have certain music playing or prayers being said during their transition. I want people to know they have advocates standing behind them, and when the situation allows, the decisions are theirs to make.
Changing How We See Death
Death doesn't always have to be seen as something bad, it can be beautiful. As humans, we've been caring for our loved ones dying in our homes for as long as we can trace back in history.
Through my experiences and training, I've learned that many of the fears people have about hospice stem from outdated perceptions. Modern hospice care was established in 1967, initially operating as charity care until Medicare began covering hospice services in 1982. This shift made compassionate end-of-life care more accessible, but it also created some misconceptions about what hospice really means.
Many people still view hospice through outdated stereotypes, that it's "giving up" or that it shortens life. The reality is quite different. Research consistently shows that hospice patients often live longer than those receiving aggressive treatments, particularly for certain conditions. When we focus on comfort, quality of life, and emotional well-being rather than fighting the inevitable, people often find peace that allows them to thrive in their remaining time.
Most families who experience hospice care find it profoundly healing. They discover that having support, advocacy, and focus on comfort rather than cure allows for deeper connections, meaningful conversations, and more peaceful transitions.
Expanding the Mission
I believe part of my calling is educating people about hospice, the death movement in general, and the other options that aren't seen as much in Ohio and other parts of the US. After volunteering with hospice and becoming a death doula, I made the decision to go back to school to pursue a degree in Psychology. My long-term goal is to earn my master's in counseling, specializing in bereavement, and a master's in thanatology, the scientific study of death and the practices associated with it, including the study of the needs of the terminally ill and their families.
Grief is such a complex emotion, and it doesn't just surround the actual death. It can be the anticipation of loss, grieving the big life events someone won't get to see, friendship breakups, and so many other types of loss that people experience. I don't believe there's a timeline, and everyone grieves in their own way. No one's brain is the same. I think it's so important to sit with emotions, even the uncomfortable ones, and I want to help people learn how to navigate these feelings the best way they can.
Creating Eternal Sunsets
This brings me to Eternal Sunsets, my business. I've always known I wanted to be a business owner. In my family, we hold celebrations of life for our loved ones, and I discovered that helping plan these celebrations brought me genuine joy. Looking at pictures, telling stories, laughing, and remembering their quirks, there was something deeply meaningful about honoring someone's life in such a personal way.
Through everything I’ve walked, the loss of my dad, caring for my Noni, volunteering with hospice, and becoming a death doula, I realized this was more than just passion, it was my purpose. Eternal Sunsets grew directly from those experiences. It’s my way of combining advocacy, compassion, and celebration, so families don’t have to walk through those heavy moments alone.
My thought process was simple: there's wedding coordination, wouldn't we want someone to help us with planning a celebration of life when grief can feel so heavy?
Celebrations of life, to me, are about storytelling, healing, and honoring how that person brought so much love into the world. They're about hearing other people share their stories too. I believe helping people personalize their celebration of life or their loved one's celebration of life, to reflect who they truly were as a person, while taking some weight off during such a heavy emotional time, is exactly where I'm meant to be.
What This Journey Has Taught Me
I have to note that the amount I've learned since 2023 is mind blowing. Meeting these people and families has taught me so much. For only being 27 years old, I feel like I've gained incredible wisdom and life lessons from the people I've worked with and the colleagues I've encountered along the way.
I've learned to be more present. I've developed active listening skills that go deeper than I ever thought possible. I've improved my empathy and understanding of what it means to help people maintain their dignity during their most vulnerable moments. I hope I can continue to bring all these skills to my clients and the people around me.
The Journey Continues
This is where my story has led me so far, from that first moment of knowing in my hospice training to understanding how loss can become the foundation for a calling. Every experience I’ve encountered through this journey has shown me that how we approach death matters deeply.
If any part of my story resonates with you, or if you have questions about death doula services, hospice care, or planning meaningful celebrations of life, I'd love to connect with you. Sometimes just having someone who understands can make all the difference.
If you're in the Columbus area and would like support navigating end-of-life decisions or planning meaningful celebrations of life, I'm here to help guide you through this sacred time.
In honor of Vicki Polaski January 13th, 1955- December 29th, 2022.
May you all find your “somewhere over the rainbow”