02/06/2026
No one ever expects what is to come when you begin losing someone you love.
One day you look at them and they are still the person you’ve always known- the safe place, the steady presence, the one you trusted would always be there. Life moves forward. You grow up, you build your own world, and somewhere along the way you realize your parents have grown older or that your spouse has aged quietly beside you, year by year, without you fully noticing.
Everything feels normal until suddenly it doesn’t.
You notice small changes at first. Less energy. A different look in their eyes. Maybe a hint of fear where confidence once lived. Their face looks more tired. Conversations shift. They begin talking about “when I’m gone.” And before you’re ready, the person who once felt like your anchor begins to feel distant, like someone you’re trying desperately to hold onto while time keeps moving forward.
If you have ever sat beside someone at the end of their life, you understand something profound: when they leave, a piece of you goes with them.
At The Heron House, we carry deep respect for the journeys our housemates and their families are living every single day. We have said goodbye to so many special people, and even as caregivers, it never becomes easy to walk alongside someone, and their loved ones, through the end-of-life transition.
Families often wrestle with grief, resistance, and denial, and that is deeply human. Our role is never to rush that process, but to gently remind families that the disease, the decline, the suffering, this is not the whole story of who their loved one was. They do not have to suffer endlessly through profound memory loss, immobility, or the loss of purpose that illness can bring.
We meet each housemate and each family exactly where they are, with compassion, patience, and respect.
To our families, we see your love, your fear, your hope, and your heartbreak. There is no right way to navigate this journey.
And to our caregivers, thank you. Thank you for showing up with tenderness, strength, and dignity for people during some of life’s most vulnerable moments. The work you do is quiet, sacred, and deeply meaningful.
Because the truth is, death is never easy, even when someone has lived a long and beautiful life. 🤍
This photo shows our team walking a housemate out after they have passed, a tradition we hold deeply at The Heron House to honor and respect each life entrusted to our care. Just as we welcome every housemate into our home, we make sure we are there to gently see them out.