Why I Started Peace in Grief

Welcome.

As I begin sharing more here, I thought it might be helpful to introduce myself and share a little about why this work matters so much to me.

I live in Kalamazoo, Michigan with my husband Steve and our dog Bernie. I’ve always had a deep curiosity about the world and a passion for learning, which led me to earn degrees in Political Science, Nursing, and Law. Each of these paths shaped how I think about people, systems, and the ways we care for one another during difficult moments.

But like many people who work in the end-of-life space, my motivation is also deeply personal.

In 2024, I lost my close friend Jessica. She was only 40 years old, and her illness and passing changed me in ways I’m still processing.

Jessica lived fully. She loved adventure, travel, good food, laughter, and the people around her. She embraced life with openness and joy, and she left a lasting impression on everyone who knew her.

After she died, I found myself asking a question many people ask after loss:

How do we honor someone we love in a meaningful way?

For me, the answer came through movement.

I decided to spend the following year training to ride my bike across the United States—Portland to Portland—in 2025. The ride would take 47 days and cross the country from the Pacific Northwest to the coast of Maine.

What I didn’t expect was how much thinking happens when you spend hours on a bike.

During the winter months, I trained in our basement on a bike trainer while the Michigan weather kept me indoors. Those long, quiet hours created space to reflect—not only on Jessica, but also on my experiences as both a nurse and an attorney supporting people through difficult moments.

One idea kept returning to me.

How could I use my training and experience to better support individuals and families navigating illness, dying, and loss?

I had been able to support Jessica and her husband during her illness, and I saw firsthand how meaningful it was to have someone helping hold space and think through difficult decisions.

But when I began looking around, I realized something surprising: there aren’t many people doing this kind of work.

We hire coaches and mentors for nearly everything in life. People seek guidance for careers, relationships, health, and athletic goals. I even hired a coach to help me train for my cross-country bike ride.

Yet when families face one of the most profound experiences of being human—serious illness, dying, and grief—many people are left to navigate it alone.

That realization stayed with me.

I began talking with people about their experiences caring for loved ones and navigating loss. Again and again, I heard the same thing: people wished they had more guidance, more space to think, and someone to help them approach these moments with intention.

Those conversations eventually led me to New York City for a conference called Life & Death in New York City, hosted by the organization Here to Honor. Being surrounded by thoughtful, compassionate people working to improve how we approach dying and end-of-life care was incredibly meaningful.

It also confirmed something I had begun to feel during those long hours of training.

This work matters.

ThroughPeace in Grief, my hope is to help individuals and families bring greater intentionality to how they live, how they plan, and how they approach the end of life.

Because when we approach these moments thoughtfully, the impact lasts far beyond the moment itself. Intentional care at the end of life can shape the experience not only for the person who is dying, but for everyone who walks alongside them.

I’m grateful you’re here and part of this conversation.