What We Give the Living When We Talk About Death

When Is the Right Time to Think About Death?

Yesterday. Now. Tomorrow.

Think about death the way you think about other momentous events in your life. You plan. You dream. You imagine. You visualize. Yet when it comes to death, many of us bury our heads in the sand and hope it will sort itself out.

Take it from me: facing it—gently, honestly—will be one of the greatest gifts you ever give yourself and the people you love.

Let me tell you why, through a true story.

A teacher at the school where I substitute died by suicide on New Year’s Day. They were deeply beloved by students for their dedication, consistency, and sincere involvement in young lives. They coached two athletic teams, tutored students who needed extra support, and gave of themselves freely and generously.

When the news spread, the school community reeled. Many of the students—some encountering loss for the first time—were profoundly shaken. Someone they trusted as fair, thoughtful, and steady had chosen death over life, and they could not understand why. How could they? Their lives are filled with concerns about grades, friendships, schedules, college applications. This loss landed like an earthquake beneath their still-forming sense of safety in the world.

I was in the classroom with upper school students less than a week later. That morning, the upper school administrator called me into her office to share what had happened and asked me, knowing I am a death doula, to quietly observe the students throughout the day—their moods, questions, silences, and behaviors. The school had already held an assembly with counselors and social workers to explain what was known and to offer support, but with a loss this shocking, it was expected—rightly—that the real processing would come later.

The students were subdued in a way that was unmistakable. They gathered in small groups, speaking in hushed tones. I held open body language, met their eyes, offered a small, steady smile as they entered the classroom. When the bell rang at the end of the period, they filed out quietly—an extraordinary departure from their usual buoyant energy.

I do not suggest that this teacher should have, could have, or would have left clues about their internal struggle. Suicide is complex, layered, and deeply personal. And yet, this tragedy does illuminate something important: the profound cost of our collective silence around death.

Exiting this world is inevitable. Which exit ramp we take is not always within our control—but how we prepare for death, how we talk about it, and how we normalize it absolutely is. The first step toward being prepared is simply to talk about it: with friends, with family, and with healthcare providers.

Step One: Death Acknowledgement

When we allow ourselves to think about death—not obsessively, but honestly—we lower our fear of it. We cultivate gratitude. Living with the awareness of mortality sharpens our attention to beauty: a bird in flight, delicate cloud formations, the deafening and exquisite sound of silence. This awareness grounds us in the present moment and reminds us that life is not infinite, which makes it precious.

Step Two: Death Acceptance

Inviting mortality into our consciousness allows us to plan for a good death. Accepting death as a whole and natural part of living nudges us toward more intentional lives. It asks us, quietly but persistently: How do you want to live?And when we accept death’s certainty, we can begin to articulate how we want it to be experienced—not only by us, but by those who will survive us.

Step Three: Planning

Most of us have attended funerals or sat vigil with the dying. If those moments felt awkward or frightening, it may have been due to a lack of understanding of the dying process—or fear that what we were witnessing wasn’t “supposed” to be happening. Planning helps remove that fear.

Consider what matters to you. Where do you want to be when the end is near? Who do you want beside you? What interventions feel appropriate—and which do not? These wishes belong in your Advance Care Directive and should be shared clearly with your loved ones. A visible DNR, if you have one, matters. Emergency responders are trained to save lives unless told otherwise.

Do you want music? Candles? A priest, a shaman, silence? Who feels right to have present in the most sacred moment of your life? And I encourage you not to exclude young people. The earlier we allow them to understand that death is as natural as birth, the more resilient and grounded they become in their own lives.

Step Four: Documenting

Do not leave this work for others to guess at. Have your will prepared. Review it with your healthcare proxy and executor. Make your wishes known—clearly and kindly. Write your obituary while you are alive. Give meaningful possessions away with intention and explanation. Choose the voices and music you want at your funeral. Transfer titles and documents while you can. These details may seem mundane, but they are acts of love.

Planning a death is no different from planning a birth. The difference is that we are taught to prepare for one and avoid the other. Do not do your loved ones the disservice of silence. Invite them into the conversation. Host a family meeting. Explain your paperwork. Share your hopes.

And if this feels overwhelming, find a death doula. We are trained to walk alongside individuals and families through this planning—early, gently, and without urgency. We ask the right questions so that, when the time comes, there is clarity instead of chaos.

I think back to those students—their quiet voices, their unanswered questions, their sudden awareness that life is fragile and not always predictable. What haunted them most was not just the loss, but the absence of understanding. Death arrived without language, context, or preparation.

Talking about death will not prevent every tragedy. But silence leaves people—especially the young—alone with confusion and fear. When we speak openly about death, we give others a map. We give them permission to ask hard questions. We give them something to hold onto when loss inevitably comes.

Yesterday. Now. Tomorrow.The right time to think about death is any moment we choose to love the living more fully.