Sitting in the enormous Music Hall ballroom last year, I listened as Katie Couric sat atop the Power to Pursue stage reflecting on her remarkable life. At one point she was asked about her experience losing her first husband, Jay, to colon cancer just nine months after his diagnosis. He was only 42.
Katie recalled being outside with Jay one afternoon during his illness when he told her how sad he felt to think about not having more vacations with her and their two young daughters. She brushed him off, telling him that he couldn’t think that way. There were still treatments. There was still hope.
But there wasn’t, really. Nothing that would end up keeping Jay alive.
Katie described her dismissal of Jay’s bid to talk about his death as the biggest regret she carries. There in that ballroom, she told us that she wished more than anything that she could go back and let him talk about his fears, his hopes, the end.
I was thinking about Katie and what she shared when I sat down with Shelby Mundy and Jennifer Blalock a few months ago. Shelby doesn’t have quite the platform that Katie does, but she undoubtedly has the charisma. And she shares an experience that few of us even let ourselves imagine: losing a partner to cancer at a tender age.
Shelby lost her husband, Nick Mundy, in August 2024. He was 34. Some of you reading this might have known or known of Nick; he was a dynamic lifeforce in Cincinnati. He spent a decade living with serious illness. What began as a rare autoimmune disease eventually became an aggressive form of non-Hodgkin lymphoma. Through years of treatment and a transition into wellness coaching, he became known for his resilience and his commitment to “Live & Love Boldly.”
Over coffee, Shelby revealed that Nick battled his own understandable uncertainties about the end of life, and he began working with Jen as a death doula to navigate what was happening. As you’ll hear below, Jen’s work with Nick was transformative not only to him, but to Shelby and his three children. I’ll let you read more about the power of some of Nick’s final moments, but suffice it to say, Shelby and Jen – and Nick – made it a beautiful experience.
After losing Nick, Shelby joined Jen in death doula work. Today, they provide deathcare to individuals and families who want to relate to death differently. As we sat together and talked about their vision for transforming this part of the human experience, I was deeply inspired. As I shared with them later, just sitting together with them left me with a new peace about death.
I was so honored to include them in this series, and I hope that you also will be inspired by their perspectives. If you are, I hope you’ll join me at the Before I Die Festival, a very special event they host each year to feature new ways to approach the end of the life.
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Ashley: Jen, you met Shelby under circumstances most of us deeply fear experiencing. Shelby, you met Jen at one of the hardest moments of your life. Looking back now, what did each of you learn from the other?
Jen: Looking back, I feel the major lesson we learned was to trust. Trusting each other that we had Nick, trusting all the people who gathered around to witness and say good-bye. Trusting that all was well in the Universe and that Nick’s death wasn’t a tragedy – it was his destiny and a natural part of the human experience. I had to trust that what I learned in preparation to become a doula was enough, that I was resourced and could show up and hold space for Nick and Shelby and the kids.
Shelby: Jen taught me about the power or presence and holding space, she also reminded me that my intuition would guide me. I’ve always had a strong intuition but during such an emotional time we can forget to tap into that intuition. With Jen’s guidance I was able to quickly tap back into that in order to be there for Nick and our three boys to the best of my abilities.
Ashley: Shelby, many people imagine that losing a spouse would only leave devastation. And yet your approach to deathcare suggests that you see it as a portal to so much more. What would you want people to understand about what those final days, and his death itself, were actually like?
Shelby: First of all, thanks so much for saying that because I most definitely see it as a portal to so much more and that is such a huge reason why I ended up getting into this work, in hopes that through helping others that it could expand their mind to see it as a portal to more as well.
I think the thing I would want people to understand above all is that when death is held with so much intention, love, and care, it can become the most profound and beautiful experience.
In Nick’s final days when time felt both unbearably heavy and impossibly fleeting, Jen offered us a ritual that became one of the most meaningful gifts of his passing for all who were involved. We cut four different strings each colored to represent the elements of life, those being air, earth, fire, and water.
One by one each of Nick’s loved ones were invited to sit with him and tie the thread loosely around his wrist. With every knot, we spoke something from our hearts, a memory, a prayer, a blessing, and a wish for what was next. In this quiet and tender exchange, the room filled with words that carried both love and release. Some knots held laughter from years past others carried tears of gratitude and many held the weight of hope for his journey forward.
Afterward, each of us found someone within the home to tie the second thread around our wrist. This act alone was significant as not everyone coming through our house during Nick’s death knew each other, which opened up new bonds, stories and relationships that otherwise may not have happened. This became a living reminder of the bond we shared with him and of the messages we had offered. In those moments Nick wasn’t just surrounded by us, he was wrapped in love knotted into every thread and carried in every element.
This ritual gave each of us the chance to say goodbye in our own way but also to say thank you, I love you, and I will carry you with me. It was a sacred pause, a final circle of love, and it turned out to be one of the most impactful parts of his journey for so many.
Alongside the ritual, we created a beautiful altar that included the help of my boys choosing items around that house that their Dad loved, painted pictures, lit candles and so much more. My oldest son, Taelor loved to tend to it throughout the days and to make sure that the candles never went out over the four days of Nick’s death.
In the last moments before Nick took his last breath, a moment forever etched into my mind that brings me so much peace and joy to this day. When someone is dying, words aren’t being communicated after a certain point, their eyes aren’t working, they are for the most part closed and unfocused or fluttery. However, seconds before Nick took his last breath as I was letting him know it was okay to be free, he turned his head and opened his eyes as wide as he possibly could. I kept getting closer and closer and I could see what he wanted me to see.
Nick had made it, he was on the other side and he was ethereal and bright, radiating a gold light all around him. He was perfect yet again. Nick then closed his eyes and took his last breath. Everyone in the room fell to their knees crying, yet I sat there and felt the most peaceful, loving feeling I have ever felt knowing that Nick was whole again and would no longer feel an ounce of pain.
That is the greatest gift I have ever received in this life. I know Nick left me with that in order to not only carry myself forward knowing how perfect and whole he was again, but so that when working with clients I don’t feel sadness or fear for them knowing where they too will soon be.
Ashley: Jen, was there a moment from Nick’s final days that continues to shape how you approaches this work?
Jen: What I learned in Nick’s final days is that death can be beautiful even though it isn’t necessarily pretty. In the midst of the sadness, if death is held with courage and love, it is also healing for everyone who is there.
While Nick was in his death passage, many of his friends and family knew who I was because he shared with them that he had worked with a death doula and that he was no longer afraid of death. That was Nick being a teacher right to the end of his physical existence. I felt it was powerful that he shared what he was learning about death with his friends and family, which added potency because they were there witnessing and supporting his death and they had insight into his emotional state. Sharing our thoughts, feelings and beliefs around death is impactful. It opens us up to new possibilities and ways of seeing things that penetrates the veil of fear.
As humans, when we share from our hearts what has meaning, it makes a tremendous impact on people. And it wouldn’t surprise me if many of those friends were uncomfortable when he was sharing his feelings about death, especially since he was so sick for so long. So many conversations with sick people are framed in being positive and not giving up. Nick went deeper than that with his people. Nick had tremendous power and potency while he was alive and embodied, and those conversations planted the seeds that a young person with so much to live for could face his death without being afraid.
For the 100 or more adults and children who witnessed him, he modeled that truth as a possibility for themselves. Being open and transparent about our beliefs can make a huge difference to people and culture. We are seeing a lot of evidence on social media and media in general of people sharing their stories of illness and facing death which is helpful.
Most importantly, I am continuing to learn from Nick. I believe that because he tended to his death passage well in advance of dying, he holds a strong energy on the other side. I believe there is a connection between how we engage our own death passage and how potent our after-death communication can be. Science has not asked this question to my knowledge but it intuitively makes sense, and I share this with clients who are open and on the same page. Nick is a part of the work that Shelby and I do together.
Ashley: What do you think we’re actually afraid of when we say we’re afraid of death? How do you think our relationship with death shapes our relationship with anxiety?
Shelby: I think when we say we’re afraid of death, we are ultimately saying we are afraid of the unknown and the mystery of it all. It doesn’t help that we live in a culture that treats not knowing as a problem to be solved rather than something to sit with. So we fill the unknown with fear and a made-up story in our mind because a made-up story feels more manageable than no story at all.
I think that spills into how we handle anxiety in general. If we can’t tolerate not knowing at the biggest level of what happens when we die then how are we supposed to tolerate not knowing at the smaller levels? Part of what Jen and I do as a death doulas is help our clients explore that mystery and who knows what will arise for them when they do.
I know for Nick, as Jen mentioned earlier, exploring that mystery (and fear) that plagued him his whole life helped Nick ultimately overcome his fear of death. I believe because he had the courage to explore it, that made his death so much more profound and beautiful for all involved.
Ashley: If everyone had one meaningful conversation about death this year, what would you hope people talked about?
Jen: I wish they would speak about the depths of their feelings – the fear, uncertainty, curiosity, dread, the desire to return home – feeling all of it while we are in human bodies.
It is powerful to share what a person believes happens during and after death. Does a person’s soul essence continue? Does death mean nothingness? Can people’s beliefs change over time? If a person can be at peace with the reality of death, how does that impact mental health and wellness? If one is in relationship with death, how can death become a teacher and shape a person’s value system?
I believe that death is a profound mystical and archetypal teacher. Death is not a dark force snuffing out life. Death accompanies us from our first breath out of the womb to our last breath before we go back home. Death is a benevolent force teaching us how to let go, release and embrace change and transformation which is integral to our human experience.
Ashley: We spend so much of our lives trying not to think about death. What do you think avoiding death costs us?
Jen: Death avoidance costs us the ability to go deep in our own personal journeys of self-awareness and healing. By engaging with death, we are living in the truth of our reality: We’re born, we live, we die and then what? To think of death as a possibility, rather than a certainty is choosing to live in a distorted field. Ancient peoples have been dialoging this for centuries. When we block our relationship with death, with the inevitable fact of our certain mortality, we lock away a part of ourselves that doesn’t want to be lied to. To move toward wholeness, it is essential to unlock parts of ourselves and the death door is a productive vehicle to learn about truth (life in this body will end) and the great mystery of living and dying.
Shelby: I believe that avoiding death costs us so much, a cliche maybe, but I feel it costs us the ability to live a full and present life. To know death is to know that we have an end date, in knowing that end I want to be sure that I am living up to my fullest potential daily. Sure there will be struggles but coming back to the thought that my time here is fleeting helps with the ability to engage more intimately with those I love and to live and to love boldly everyday. A sidenote: My beautiful husband Nick and I created a brand called Mundy Mindset before he died and our phrase was “Live and Love Boldly,” I never truly appreciated the depths of that phrase until his death and now I embody it daily.
Ashley: Death doulas don’t prevent death. So what do they actually do and make possible?
Jen: Nobody can prevent death, not even death doulas or Marvel heroes! I cannot speak for other death doulas. We are a diverse bunch. Shelby and I provide non-medical support to support our clients by helping with pre-planning, the dying process, after death care. Our services are customized for the needs of each client.
We hold space for the emotions and provide healing rituals, ceremonies and guided processes to become familiar with the veil and gain a sense of what it might feel like on the other side. We take a holistic approach and focus on the mind, body, spirit and emotional aspects of the dying passage.
Ashley: What does good support actually look like when someone is grieving?
Shelby: I think good support can look very different for people at different times. The easiest and best support can simply be just showing up for someone and holding space. When I say holding space, I mean simply being in the presence of and witnessing someone in their grief without an ulterior motive. I think a lot of people struggle to show up this way because of their own insecurities and or fear.
Most people want to fill the silence or tears with words to comfort themselves rather than the one who is grieving. We are all human and will continue to make mistakes when someone is grieving, myself included. Sometimes just being honest and saying “I don’t know how to show up or what to say, but I am here for you to listen, hold space, hold your hand, grab you a meal, anything you would find helpful”
That person may not even know what is helpful to them at that time, but the best support I’ve had throughout my grief is a family who hasn’t stopped showing up when everyone else around me faded out, a family who we were just getting to know stepped up in a way that no one else did. They continue to help when I am overwhelmed, whether it’s picking my boys up from school, doing a load of laundry, or simply stopping by to give me a hug. To me that is the best support, to know that not only am I supported but my boys are as well.
Ashley: Do you think our culture has become better at prolonging life than accompanying death?
Jen: Absolutely, I believe our culture, medical practices and healthcare systems can prolong life to the detriment of the person being treated. Physicians are taught to heal people, not help them die. To extend life at all costs creates a system that maintains death denial and avoidance because death is perceived as a failure rather than the natural outcome of a disease process or aging.
It’s not only the medical system, but also patients who are at the end of viable treatment options who demand aggressive interventions when it’s clear they will not extend life in a meaningful way. It’s the dance between physicians, healthcare workers, patients, pharmaceutical companies, insurance companies – it is a big cluster of powerful entities vying to beat death at every turn. And it promises more time for a person who has an abysmal diagnosis and prognosis. It’s compelling. The system has a lot of wins and extends life until it can’t and that’s where death enters and gets shortchanged.
Miracles can always happen but with technology and modern medicine, the system is built to deny death right up to the end. I have not experienced a sensibility in the system where death would be valued as a teacher and healer. I do not see evidence that conventional healthcare systems possess or value an understanding that how a person approaches their death passage might matter. What about the spirit and soul? What about the emotions and feelings? Unfortunately, death is written in as a failure which is contrary to its wisdom.
From the lens of our work, we have seen people making decisions based on a hopefulness that doesn’t seem to be supported by their medical reality. They think positively It’s not unusual for a physician to say there’s nothing else to be done yet does not clearly guide their patient through next steps. If a patient is young, there are more heroic measures taken right up to the end allowing no time or clarity of consciousness, to be present for the death passage.
Shelby and I respond to all of this by first respecting and honoring our clients free will and choice. Free will and choice is a sacred human right and whatever they decide for themselves, we respect. We might find ourselves in front of a terminal client who refuses to talk about their death because a family member has asked us to help open the space so all the necessary practicalities can be tended to. We find subtle ways to approach it and try to chip away with varying degrees of success. Resistance to hospice care is another indicator of discomfort and avoidance of death. Your question speaks to the very real and recalcitrant resistance to death and dying in our culture. There are many layers. Ultimately, each person is doing it their own way. Shelby and I assist people who are doing it their own way and we encourage a path with depth, meaning and healing.
To learn more about Jen and Shelby’s doula services, check out their website. For information on the Before I Die Festival, visit here.
