My name is Sarah Savoy and I’m a born and bred Vancouverite. I grew up in the forested hills of the North Shore and now reside in East Vancouver. I am a mother, a daughter, a sister, a wife, a friend.

My journey to becoming an End-of-Life Doula came about from a confluence of circumstances. Having recently ended my role as a boutique owner of many years, I was on a path to find new and purposeful work where I could connect with people on a heart level. I had turned the age my mother was when she was in the throes of battling oral cancer - which she died of three days after her 56th birthday. Being so much like my mom in many ways (not only do I look like her, but I have her cooking skills, sportiness, and love of fashion 🩵), I couldn’t help but think of my own mortality. Will I get sick “out of the blue”, too? Will I make it to my next birthday? Like her, will I not live to see my child grow to adulthood?

It was the combination of wanting to do compassionate, human-centred work and having a heightened sense of life’s vulnerability, that drew me to become an End-of-Life Doula. If I could serve people and their families in their last days and lessen any fear, confusion and overwhelm… what an important and much needed role this would be.

Looking back, I was the kid who buried dead birds I found in my yard – digging a grave, lining it with flowers and leaves, then marking it with a stone. As an adult, I'll seek out cemeteries when I travel as calm places to reflect on life and the imagined stories of those buried there. I’ve long recognized our mortality and felt something profoundly meaningful and sacred in the way a life comes to its end.

I’m also passionate about educating and pushing back against our death avoidant culture. I believe there’s a quiet, growing movement to normalize death and face the certainty of it with courage and openness – I’d like to be a part of it.

My goal is to serve with deep care and lovingkindness; to hold space for tears, silence, and stories; to advocate for people so their wishes become reality; to companion the dying through their final chapter in the many ways it unfolds.

I do this work in honour of my mother, Ruby. She died at home surrounded by her family. It was quiet, sad, peaceful, and sacred.