Lecture - Jennifer Deaton

Sunday 15^th June 2025

Good afternoon, everyone, and thank you Val, Maureen and Bernadette for inviting me back, it is such an honour.

For those who don’t know, I will briefly touch on what I do. I am a Death Doula, and I have been in the Death Positive Movement for over 25 years. Now that means that I assist people to die well, in their own homes if that is their desire, and on their own terms.

I bring agency together to help lift some of the stresses off the family and I make sure that my clients are in control.

I emotionally care for each client and their family in that; I sit with my client till they transition out of their body. I then take care of their body and follow their wishes to their final resting place.

Some of the most profound experiences I have been blessed to have with my clients over the years as I sat with them on their final days are when they ask, “Is there really a heaven?”

Now as a Death Doula I am not allowed to have an opinion. I must remain neutral. It is not my task to tell them my views or belief system. My task is to make their last days as easy as possible. And this has led me to my topic today.

What Heaven Looks Like: Through Different Eyes.

Heaven – a word, an idea, a destination. For some it is a reward. For others, it is peace.

But if you ask ten people what their heaven looks like you might get ten very different versions of heaven. And that is because heaven is not just a place. It is a reflection of the soul.

To the artist heaven is a never-ending canvas. Skies of shifting colours. Music that paints the air and sculptures that come to life and dance. Time does not exist here – only inspiration. Here the creation flows like breath and every idea is met with boundless space to make it real.

The Framers Heaven

The farmer sees heaven as a series of rolling green fields under the golden sun. Soil rich with promise. Animals at peace. Crops that grow without struggle. There is no toil only joy in the planting, tending, harvesting – a return to a perfect harmony between humanity and the Earth.

The Child’s Heaven

To the child, heaven is an endless play. A sky filled with balloons, clouds shaped like dinosaurs and ice cream that never melts. Friends who never leave and games that never end. Laughter echoes through meadows of wonder where curiosity is never met with fear.

The Scientist’s Heaven

To the scientist, heaven is the pursuit of truth – but with every mystery unfolding just as curiosity forms. No barriers. No limits to knowledge. You could speak to Einstein, debate Darwin or watch the stars being born. The laws of the universe reveal themselves like poetry.

The Grieving Parents Heaven

Their heaven is simpler than most – one face. One voice. A child they lost running towards them across a field of light. Laughter restored. Time undone. Just one more moment that lasts forever.

The Explorer’s Heaven

 Mountains with no peaks. Oceans with no end. The sky always shifting. Every path leads somewhere new, and every horizon brings more. Here the thrill of discovery never fades - neither does the sense of wonder.

The Spiritual Seeker’s Heaven

To them heaven is not a place. It is a presence. Pure light. Infinite love. The ego dissolves. Questions are answered not in words but there is an understanding that transcends language. It is a union with something greater. Something eternal.

The Grandparent’s Heaven

It’s a porch or maybe a kitchen filled with family. There is laughter and generations gathered in love. Time slows. Every moment is a perfect, sunlit memory. The worries are gone – only warmth remains.

So, as I go about my work as a Death Doula, I have many experiences, and I would like to share some personal stories with you. Now, when my clients ask me what does heaven look like? I hold their hand and look into their eyes and say, “How about you tell me what your heaven looks like,” then I store what they have shared until they are taking their final breath, and I gently retell their heaven journey as they transition.

Bingo - Janet had the recognizable blue rinse, cigarette strained voice, a contagious laugh and she was a fabulous nana but if the truth be known, her love was bingo. I was called over to work with her as the cancer had taken over her body and I was lucky enough to be by her side for some weeks. I got great insight into her world and, when her time cane, I walked her into the bingo hall.

Her favourite seat was empty, and she quickly made her way over to it, settled herself and began to pull out her band new dabbers in her favourite colours. As she looked up, she could see the bingo caller she had loved years ago, because they had a loud, clear voice. She then looked to see who might be sitting beside her. On her left was a lady who hated small talk and to her right was her dear bingo buddy of 20 years. A smile falls on Janet’s face as I softly call out the numbers - all the sixes, 66, legs 11 etc - holding her hand as she took her last breath.

Car Heats - Zac was in his early 20s, mad about cars, car racing, hotted up cars. Zac had Downs syndrome with added complex medical needs. He was a “not to be resuscitated” patient. To make sure that Zac’s wishes are understood, I was mostly on active nightshift watching over him and he loved our ‘story time.’ I would tell him in this story he was the driver of an amazing Holden ZB Commodore triple eight car, complete with the super cheap auto branding all over it.

I would tell him how he was a brave and fast driver and how the crowd called his name, cheering him on. I would talk about how his tyres sounded on the gravel as he rounded the corners, how he would overtake the other race cars, how with his hard work he won the heat. I would describe how he stood on the podium as a winner and how excited his family was as they gave him a big hug.

Zac’s sweet heart stopped one night as I was telling him this story. He may not have had the capacity to talk in depth about dying and heaven, but I do believe our stories were his touch of heaven.

The Atheist - Steven was a reluctant client. I was hired by his wife to help emotionally with him because he had MND. I grew on Steven over time. His strong view was that there was no heaven. No gods. Just blackness when he died. This led to some very rich conversation over the time I spent with him. We had a backup plan Steven and me. If he got fearful at the end, he wanted me to tell him a story so his mind would have something to focus on.

Steven loved his mates, and he loved his pub. So, I retold him one of his favourite pub shenanigans stories. See, Steven and his mates were forever pulling pranks on each other. Well, this one hot summer night, in a small country town was no different. The boys arrived at the local watering hole and, as they ordered their cold beers, Steven and his best mate, Dougie, snuck out to retrieve a deceased possum they had seen on the side of the pathway to the pub. They got that possum and put it in Tommy’s ute.

Well, as the night went on, the weather was getting warmer and warmer and the good convos rolled on and they had forgotten what they had done earlier until Tommy opened his car door to a smell that almost burnt off his nose hairs, a sight I won’t repeat here. For Steven and all his friends, rolling around with laughter, this was the best prank ever. He passed as I retold this story.

See, Heaven isn’t one size fits all. It is shaped by who we are, by what we have endured, by what we have loved. Perhaps the beauty of heaven is that it is as personal as a fingerprint and just as unique.

And Your Heaven?

And then there is you. Maybe your heaven is silence. Or music. Maybe it is a library with books that never end or a forest where you can walk forever. Maybe it is the arms of someone you have missed or a place where the world finally makes sense.”