Regrets People Have at the End of Life

Written from the heart, by someone who walks this sacred journey alongside others.

I’ve sat at the bedside of many people as they near the end of their life.

Sometimes it’s quiet. Sometimes there are tears. Other times, laughter fills the

room as stories are shared one last time. But almost always, there’s a moment—a

pause—where someone leans over to me and whispers something they wish they

had done differently.

The truth is, most people aren’t afraid of dying. They’re afraid of not having lived

fully.

Over the years, I’ve noticed a few common regrets people share at the end. And I

carry those moments with me, not only as a reminder of what matters—but as a

guide for how I support others through this deeply personal chapter.

“I wish I had lived life on my own terms.”

So many people tell me they spent years—or decades—doing what was expected of

them. They followed the rules, checked the boxes, and in the end, they wonder

whose life they really lived.

As an end-of-life doula in Sarasota, one of the ways I support my clients is by

helping them reclaim their voice. Whether it's planning a vigil that reflects who they

are or creating a legacy project that honors their truth, we find ways to make this

final season meaningful—and uniquely theirs.

“I wish I had said what needed to be said.”

Words left unspoken are one of the heaviest burdens people carry. I’ve held hands

as someone finally said, “I forgive you,” or “I love you,” or “I’m sorry.”

Sometimes, we write letters together. Sometimes, we make space for those final

conversations—however imperfect they may be. As an end of life doula, I don't rush

or fix; I simply hold the space so that nothing important has to go unsaid.

“I wish I hadn’t been so afraid.”

Fear has a way of shrinking life. People tell me they were afraid to take risks, afraid

to speak up, afraid to be fully seen. And they wish they had realized earlier how

little most of those fears actually mattered.

There’s something powerful about having someone by your side who isn’t afraid of

death—who understands it, honors it, and treats it as a natural part of life. That’s

what I offer. Compassionate presence. A calm anchor. Gentle guidance through the

unknown.

“I wish I had been more present.”

They talk about the missed sunsets. The dinners rushed. The phones that stayed on

during conversations that deserved full attention. At the end, presence becomes

everything.

That’s why much of my work as an end of life doula is about slowing things down.

Helping families pause long enough to truly see each other. To hold each other. To

say goodbye in a way that’s rooted in love, not logistics.

I don’t share these regrets to be somber. I share them because they’re human. And

because it’s never too late to choose presence, truth, and love.

If you or someone you love is approaching this sacred time, know that you don’t

have to do it alone. My work as an end-of-life doula and grief educator is to walk

alongside you—with tenderness, clarity, and care. Whether you need help

navigating the emotional terrain, coordinating with hospice, holding vigil, or simply

making sense of it all—I’m here.

This part of life deserves just as much dignity, intention, and love as every other

chapter. And I would be honored to support you through it.