In the heart of Reno, the Radical Cat bookstore transforms into a sanctuary for those grappling with grief. On a chilly January evening, book-lined walls cocooned around a group of about 20 individuals, each sharing deep conversations about life’s inevitable end and the sorrow it brings.
The dialogue opened with reflections on the community’s shared grief over the tragic deaths of Minnesota residents Renee Good and Alex Pretti at the hands of ICE. Jonathan Cramer, one of the participants, shared, “I had an immediate reaction to it. We’ve gone through some loss with animals, but seeing him die like that, alone, cold in the street, broke my heart. I started crying. I couldn’t help it.”
Cramer, along with his wife, found solace in attending the Biggest Little Death Café, a monthly meeting where they met Caitlyn Ottmann, a funeral director. Ottmann expressed the challenges of her profession, saying, “With my job, I deal with the after effects of the things, but it isn’t being there in that moment of loss, and I have no idea how to grapple with it.”
Cramer noted the personal impact of these gatherings, stating, “It was a very emotional time for my wife and I. I’ve lost my parents. I’ve not really grieved my parents. It’s important for me, I think, to understand grief and how it’s impacting me.” Ottmann added, “It’s been nice to have a space to come that is open and embracing, it feels like a hug.”
Facilitating the event, Emily Barney, a death, birth, and postpartum doula, urged the group to confront the often-ignored topic of mortality. “We’re living every day, and we could die at any moment, and our Western culture pushes it away,” Barney observed. “It’s swept under the rug. It’s a taboo. It is dismissed. It’s dramatized. We don’t know what it’s actually like, and it’s the thing that we fear the most.”
Anita Hannig, a death educator and author of “The Day I Die: The Untold Story of Assisted Dying in America,” highlighted the role of death doulas in fostering these discussions. “I think it’s the realization of how estranged we have become from one of the most significant aspects of our existence,” Hannig explained. “And now you really see this trend of boomers saying, ‘I’m not satisfied to die, as I saw my own parents dying.’”
Death doula Melissa Chanselle-Hary, the founder of Sacred Transits, emphasizes the importance of discussing death openly, even with the young and healthy. “We’ve gone through a series of discussions between some of the logistics and the bureaucratic stuff of paperwork and estate plans, but then also just some exploratory emotion-based conversations, like, what does a good death look like? What do you want to happen to your body?” she shared.
Chanselle-Hary’s practical approach includes a “zero shenanigans” policy, navigating complex family dynamics and end-of-life needs with tact. “Sometimes you’re a quarterback, sometimes you’re a hand in the dark, sometimes you’re just the lackey or the grocery runner,” she explained. “Family dynamics can come into play. I’m not confrontational, but I am comfortable with conflict.”
Volunteer death doula Lea Cartwright, who balances her advocacy with her role as a lobbyist and the owner of Cartwright NV Government Affairs, offers a simple piece of advice: consider mortality daily. “I do think life is a little more colorful…if you think about death every day, because it could happen at any time,” Cartwright said. “If I were to leave today, what would I be leaving behind?”
Through these gatherings and conversations, participants are encouraged to honor those who have passed and to enrich their lives by acknowledging the finite nature of existence.
