How Creating a Death Plan Protects the People You Love

Most of us are excellent planners. We plan vacations, weddings, retirements, and what’s for dinner three weeks from now. But when it comes to the one thing we are all guaranteed to experience? Suddenly we go quiet. “I’ll deal with that later.” *shifty eyes*

Well, sometimes later has a way of becoming now.  Ask me how I know. (*cough cough* two very sudden and unexpected deaths in now *cough cough*)

Planning for the end of your life isn’t morbid. It’s merciful. It’s one of the most loving acts you can offer the people you care about, and one of the most empowering things you can do for yourself.

Because here’s the truth no one loves to say out loud: when there is no plan, someone else is forced to make decisions in the middle of shock, fear, and grief. Decisions about medical care. About comfort. About money. About what you would have wanted if you were able to speak for yourself. That’s a heavy burden to drop into someone’s lap while they’re already drowning.

A death plan is about taking ownership. It’s saying, I’ve thought about this. I’ve made choices. I’ve left instructions. It allows your loved ones to focus on loving you, not scrambling through paperwork or arguing over what you “would have wanted.”

And let’s be clear, planning doesn’t mean you have to predict every detail of how or when you’ll die. Life doesn’t work that way. A death plan is about values, preferences, boundaries, and clarity. It’s about answering questions like:

What matters most to me at the end of my life?
What does comfort look like for me?
Who do I trust to speak for me if I can’t speak for myself?
How do I want my body treated after I die?
What do I want my people to know?

These are deeply human questions. And they deserve more than a rushed conversation in a hospital hallway.

There’s also a quiet gift in doing this work while you’re healthy: it often changes how you live now. When you get honest about what matters at the end, you tend to get clearer about what matters today. Boundaries sharpen. Relationships shift. Priorities get rearranged. Suddenly you’re less interested in living on autopilot and more interested in living on purpose.

I’ve sat with countless families at the bedside, some with a plan, many without. I can tell you with certainty: the difference is profound. Planning doesn’t erase grief, but it softens the edges. It brings steadiness into chaos. It turns “I don’t know” into “I know exactly what they wanted.”

And if you’re thinking, I don’t even know where to start, you’re completely normal. Most people were never taught how to have these conversations, let alone write things down in a way that feels accessible and human (not like a cold legal document written in another language).

That’s exactly why I created my Writing Your Death Plan workshop.

This isn’t about fear-mongering or doom-and-gloom. It’s a guided, supportive space where we walk through the essentials together, at your pace, with room for humor, emotion, questions, and real-life complexity. You’ll leave with clarity, confidence, and something tangible your loved ones will one day be grateful for.

If you’ve been waiting for “the right time” to do this, consider this your nudge. Planning for the end of your life doesn’t make it happen sooner, I PROMISE.  But it will help you embrace the  life you’re living now and care for the people you love most.

Come do this important, meaningful work now, before it becomes urgent.

The workshop is in person in Columbus Ohio on January 14th at 6:30PM. Click here to reserve your spot now, before it’s full! I WILL be hosting this online in the coming months.  Please sign up for my newsletter to keep informed of that and any other workshops or events I have upcoming!