A ceremony story about creating rituals in the physical spaces after someone has died.
Nan Marshall is an end-of-life doula for pets and humans living in St. Albert, Alberta. She drew on the wisdom of Be Ceremonial to create ceremonies for her clients that transform physical spaces after loss.
I was fortunate to be introduced to Be Ceremonial by one of my instructors, Christa Ovenell, whose deeply human and heart-centered approach to end-of-life work continues to inspire me. Her teachings illuminated how ritual and ceremony can help ground us during times of uncertainty, loss, and transition.
When I discovered Be Ceremonial, it felt like a natural extension of my own work. I was drawn in by the language, the intentionality, and the gentle invitation to make ceremony accessible and personal. As someone who deeply values ritual, finding Be Ceremonial felt like the connection I’d been seeking.
I was hoping to gain a deeper sense of connection—to others who walk this path, to new ways of creating sacred space, and to a wider community that understands how powerful it is to mark moments, both big and small, with care and reverence. I also hoped to feel seen in the kind of work I do—work that doesn’t always have a clear title or roadmap. In Be Ceremonial, I found that affirmation and belonging.
The Challenge of Encouraging Ceremony
One of the biggest challenges I face in my work is encouraging people to believe they deserve ceremony, especially during times of grief or anticipatory loss. So many people feel rushed, overwhelmed, or unsure of how to begin. There’s also the perception that ceremony needs to be elaborate or religious—but what I’ve found most powerful are the quiet, intentional acts that meet people right where they are.
Creating ceremony in unfamiliar or clinical spaces, like hospitals or care facilities, also requires gentle creativity and adaptability.
Rituals After A Death
I offer my clients space-clearing and sacred-setting rituals to help transform either a room or a complete home after a loved one has passed. These ceremonies can also support someone in hospice or palliative care by making their space feel more homey, nurturing, and peaceful. It’s about tending to both the emotional landscape and the physical environment while honoring the presence (or memory) of a beloved soul.
Creating these ceremonies feels deeply grounding. It reminds me how powerful simple, sensory experiences can be—lighting a candle, softening the lighting, adding a cherished object, opening a window. The act of slowing down and honoring the space itself brings immense peace to everyone involved. What stands out most is how these rituals create a threshold—marking a shift, offering comfort, and bringing reverence into the room.
Walking Through A Ceremony
This ceremony was created independently, inspired by my doula practice and personal grief journey, for a very dear client whose spouse had died after her lengthy battle with cancer.
1. Clearing the Space
I began by gently tidying and resetting the space. We removed medical equipment and items that no longer served. We invited fresh air in by opening a couple of windows and together set a silent intention to welcome peace and presence.
2. Lighting the Comfort Candle
I created the Comfort Candle in honor of my soul dog Darby to provide solace when I lost her. I brought my client a candle and placed it on the coffee table in the center of the room. The candle was lit with intention, inviting warmth and memory into the space. The flame represented connection, love, and the quiet power of presence.
3. Adding Elements of Softness
We introduced a cozy blanket that my client’s wife had loved and placed it on the sofa where he usually sits. We also positioned a beautiful photo of my client and his spouse—one his wife had particularly cherished—on the end table by the sofa. These grounding textures helped transform the room into a sanctuary of care and connection.
4. Silence and Storytelling
I created time for my client to sit in silence, share a few treasured stories about their adventures together, and simply witness the grief that was arising. This moment of reflection would be especially meaningful in hospice care, where quiet presence is often the most powerful gift.
5. Closing with Gratitude
We gave thanks for the life lived, the love they had shared, and the space we had held together. My client decided to make this ritual part of his daily routine—lighting the candle to connect with his wife when he got home from work, then blowing it out before retiring to bed by saying goodnight to her each evening. He found beautiful peace in being able to connect with her in his own special way.
His favourite part of the ceremony was lighting the Comfort candle. Watching the flame settle into stillness becomes a form of meditation and grounding. It offers peace and softens grief by creating beauty in the midst of profound pain.
My client has said it has helped him slow down and feel more present with himself and others in his family. For those in care facilities, it can bring dignity, calm, and familiarity into sterile or clinical spaces.
Ritual In Everyday Moments
I’m incredibly grateful for platforms like Be Ceremonial that uplift the sacred in everyday moments and create a welcoming space where grief, ritual, and healing can coexist.
Through my experience with Be Ceremonial, I’ve learned that even in silence, there is ceremony. People are longing for sacredness, even if they don’t know how to ask for it. Small, intentional acts—like lighting a candle or smoothing a blanket—can hold profound emotional weight.
I’ve also learned that ceremony doesn’t always have to be big or public. Sometimes the most powerful rituals happen quietly in the background, held in the heart. I’m honored to walk alongside people and pets through these moments, and I thank you for creating space for this work to be shared. It is such a beautiful gift to the world.
