18. Death Doula Nicole on End of Life: What a Death Doula Actually Does

A $12.99 pill bottle. That's what finally gave one family peace of mind. Nicole Hoover found it while poking around the Alzheimer's Foundation website for a client living with dementia: a pill bottle with an alarm and a flashing light to remind her it's time for her medication. When Nicole sent the link to the client's kids, she said, "You would have thought that I found the cure for Alzheimer's."

People ask me all the time what a death doula actually does. So I sat down with my doula buddy Nicole Hoover, known as Death Doula Nicole. She's in Ohio, I'm in California, and we do the same work in different places. We talked shop: caregiving, legacy work, the obituary she wrote after one afternoon of listening, respite, bedside vigil, and how we take care of ourselves along the way.

From caregiver to death doula

Before Nicole was a doula, she was a caregiver. Her mom was diagnosed with stage four ovarian cancer, and about six weeks later her aunt began her own transition. Some days Nicole drove her mom to chemo, drove across town to take her aunt to dialysis, then went back to sit with her mom and do her corporate job surrounded by chemo bags. She was raising three kids at the same time.

I asked what she wished someone had offered her in the middle of that sandwich. Her answer was one word: grace. Grace to not have to keep it together every hour of every day. Nicole once looked up the origin of the word doula and found it translates as servant, and she means that in the best sense: let me take some of this away from you. When you're carrying a heavy load and someone takes five pounds, those five pounds can decide whether you can walk another step.

Shared resources, staying in our lane, and a peace-of-mind checklist

That pill bottle is a good example of what doulas bring to the table, and we share these finds with each other. Nicole came from HR, and I spent two decades in corporate training and consulting, where people tended to guard their edge. In this space nobody's gatekeeping. (Also, if I cry at work, it's no big deal. There's no Tom Hanks behind me saying there's no crying in doula work.)

Doulas are non-legal and non-medical, so I asked Nicole where she draws the line. She pictures herself as the hub of a wheel, with spokes of trusted people: a financial advisor, a lawyer, a cleaning person, someone who can cook a few favorite meals. I think of myself as a concierge. I want families to have choices and understand their rights. When a family was unhappy with their hospice, I told them they could switch providers.

Nicole also has a free Peace-of-Mind Checklist. Is the house set up to transfer on death? Are your passwords recorded? Are your powers of attorney current, and who's listed as beneficiary on your policies? Nicole told me about a man at a company where she worked in HR who died years after a divorce without updating his beneficiary, and his ex-spouse received his policies.

What legacy work is, and the recipe that died with her mom

Nicole comes at legacy work hard because she knows what it looks like when you don't do it. She has journaled for her son since the day she found out she was pregnant. For each of her kids' first birthdays, family members wrote letters to be opened someday, and after her mom died, her son got to read the letter his grandmother wrote him.

Her mom's meatballs and spaghetti sauce were what Nicole grew up on, and what her own kids grew up on. In the chaos after her mom got sick, the recipe kept getting pushed to the back burner. They'd get to it. They didn't. When her mom died, that recipe died with her.

I hear "nobody wants to hear my stories" a lot, and I think it's categorically untrue. Nicole answers by reminding people who they are. She'll tell a client that she, a party of one who isn't even family, loves hearing about walking to the pierogi store to buy the night's dinner. I'm grateful every day that I know how to make my mom's tuna casserole (judge me, I don't care), because there are days she can't make it, and I can make it for her.

Video, voice, writing, and the simplest kinds of legacy

Nicole loves video because it captures voice and mannerisms. Her grandfather was a whistler who was forever tapping his foot, and she wishes she had that on video for her kids. She also records voice with an app and writes everything down in her planner. One mom wanted every Christmas present wrapped the same the year she died, and left instructions for white lights. Instructions like that fold your person into the first holidays in a way that's easy and meaningful.

For legacy videos, Nicole is a party of one: lights, camera, and mic. She records a conversation wherever the person is comfortable, has it professionally edited with photos dropped in, and the family gets it on a private YouTube channel. She'd challenge the idea that these are only for people with a terminal diagnosis. One could be an anniversary gift.

Legacy can also be very simple. Take cuttings from grandma's rose garden before the house sells. (Nicole does not recommend taking the chives, unless you want your whole yard growing onions.) Make a playlist of Aunt Sally's favorite songs. As Nicole put it, a person dies twice, once in the physical sense and again when we stop speaking their name.

The obituary published word for word, and how we keep going

Last summer a son contacted Nicole because his dad had an end-stage cancer diagnosis. A week later his dad died, and he asked if she could help write the obituary. Within a few hours she was sitting with the family and her notebook, and the conversation just flowed. She went home, wrote two versions (no AI), and sent them off. A few days later she saw it published, word for word.

This work can be lonely, Nicole told me. She keeps sticky notes with three questions for the end of every week: Who did I help this week? What did I create this week? What gave me hope this week? I told her those are her KPIs. For caregivers, her advice is similar: keep a journal of the wins, like dad smiled today, and read it on the bad days.

Respite care: you don't get a prize for doing it all alone

"You don't get a prize for doing everything all by yourself," Nicole said. "Trust me." Without a break, she said, you'll become resentful of your situation, and probably of the person, too. Schedule time for yourself, even if it's just driving for an hour or being outside on purpose.

Respite can look like a hospice volunteer you get to know a little at a time: an hour, then two, then lunch with a friend. If Shirley has called three times offering to help, let Shirley come over, and go take a nap. When a man on a panel Nicole sat on worried about his wife working seven days a week, Nicole said that as a strong-minded type A, she wouldn't stop and say what she needs either. Her advice: learn the person's love language and go do it for them.

Bedside vigil, the last breath, and staying through grief

At the bedside, a lot of the work is education, so families know what to expect and it's less scary. Nicole talks families through the death rattle (and the temptation to grab one of those booger suckers we all had for our kids), and tells them it's the body doing what it needs to do. I tell families their person can hear them long after they think they can, so keep talking. Nicole's advice for families who argue is simple: take the conflict out of the room.

After the last breath, it isn't a medical emergency, and there's no need to rush. I stay, and I don't charge from the time a person dies until the body leaves. A few months ago I helped my dad when he had to put down one of his horses, Newt. When Shelley came to remove Newt's body, she said the other horse, Skip, needed time with him. Skip nudged Newt, and you could watch the understanding settle into his body. In that moment, Shelley was my doula.

Nicole and I both stay with families after a death, checking in around the first holidays. Grief sneaks up on you. While making notes for our conversation, Nicole wrote the words legacy and memory, and her cursive L and M were her mother's handwriting. There's no timetable, so lean into those moments, because you're feeling something for a reason.

About Nicole Hoover

Nicole Hoover, known as Death Doula Nicole, serves families across Northeast Ohio, in person in Summit, Cuyahoga, Medina and Stark counties and virtually anywhere. After 20 years in Human Resources and caring for her mom and her aunt at the end of their lives, she left corporate life and opened her practice in July 2025. She offers legacy work (recorded interviews, legacy reels, and obituary writing), bedside vigil, respite care, difficult conversations, document review and planning, and bereavement support.

Website · Free Peace-of-Mind Checklist · Legacy work and the Legacy Reel · Schedule a consultation

In this episode

  • 02:22 What does a death doula actually do?
  • 04:02 Caring for two dying family members while raising three kids
  • 06:17 The sandwich generation and grace
  • 08:29 Doula as servant
  • 10:45 How a $12.99 pill bottle changed everything for one family
  • 12:20 Why doulas share resources instead of gatekeeping
  • 14:41 What legacy work is, and Nicole's journals for her kids
  • 18:07 The meatball recipe that died with her mom
  • 19:27 When someone tells you nobody wants their stories
  • 22:07 Video, voice, and writing as legacy tools
  • 24:59 White lights and matching wrapping paper
  • 27:43 The obituary published word for word
  • 32:25 Three questions to ask yourself every week
  • 36:16 Keep a journal of the wins
  • 38:34 How Nicole creates legacy videos as a party of one
  • 44:18 Simple legacy: garden cuttings and curated playlists
  • 45:45 Nicole's Peace-of-Mind Checklist
  • 48:39 Non-legal, non-medical: the doula as hub and concierge
  • 51:12 You can switch hospice providers
  • 52:00 Respite care: you don't get a prize for doing it all alone
  • 56:00 Caring for a caregiver through their love language
  • 58:24 What bedside vigil looks like
  • 1:01:13 Reading aloud to a client in her final days
  • 1:04:11 Take the conflict out of the room
  • 1:05:34 After the last breath: no need to rush
  • 1:06:48 A horse named Skip
  • 1:09:16 Staying with families through bereavement
  • 1:13:10 When grief shows up in your mother's handwriting
  • 1:16:27 Why this work can bring back community

Feeling the pull to do this work? Pay attention to that. I teach it at Compass Doula Academy.

Caring for someone near the end? You don't have to figure out the last days alone. Book a Guided Care Planning Call and we'll talk through what's ahead.

Listen: Spotify · Apple Podcasts · 80 minutes

If there's anything else you're dying to ask, let me know: christy@christybraun.com

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17. How to Make Peace Before You Make a Will, with Sarah Cavanaugh, Author of Peaceful Exit