My Story

My heart was broken in countless tiny ways before I drowned in real, deep, grief. There were moves, pet deaths, grandmothers buried, divorce, and siblings leaving home. I like to think those splashes and puddles of loss prepared me, in some small way, for the open water of grief.

When I was just 22 years old, my first child was born with a fatal heart condition. Although I had been loved and cared for by midwives before our baby arrived, in the aftermath of our infant’s death, I felt abandoned—left to flounder in sorrow. The birth team did the best they could, but their work was life, not death. 

Along the way to healing, I found ritual. I found kinship. I discovered home funerals and natural burials. I learned how essential it is to be held by community in the days and weeks following death. Here, in this work, I hope to hold space—for those who have lost, for those who are letting go, for those needing help with the practical or spiritual work of death. I want to support people facing impending death and recent loss. I want to dream new ways of grieving and creating ceremonies for who—and what—we can no longer hold close.

I believe in the power of imagination, play, and design—even through tears. I love to dance, to create, to dream—especially in the sacred space where light and sorrow meet. I believe we are meant to move through this world together, to walk each other to the edge, and to dream into the great mystery that awaits us all.

I’m a kin-keeper, someone who tends relationships and makes sure no one is forgotten or left behind. I love wordplay, jokes, and puns. I have a soft spot for dark humor and the kind of silliness that helps us breathe when the air is heavy. Laughter, for me, is sacred—it lives right alongside the tears.

Although I’m deeply drawn to the mystical and unseen, I feel most at home in the physical world. I’m a planner and a list-maker—someone who finds comfort in details, timelines, and making sure things get done with care and intention. I’m a designer of gatherings, someone who thinks deeply about how space, ritual, and people come together. I believe that beauty and structure can create room for deep feeling and connection.

Thank you for reading my rambling, I hope to connect IRL real soon.

to love what death will touch
to love what could abandon us
is to accept these rites of grief
is to open to vulnerability
nothing ever stays the same
everything is change

ahlay blakely