What Can Death Teach Us?

In our 20s and 30s, death is a distant concept—something we rarely pause to consider. But on The Real Stuff with Lucie Fink, hospice nurse and bestselling author Hadley Vlahos (aka Nurse Hadley) reminds us that death isn’t just an end—it’s a mirror that offers profound clarity.

Hadley has spent nearly a decade in people’s homes, caring for them in their final weeks and months. “I always say that I feel like there’s so much life in end-of-life care,” she told Lucie. What she’s learned from the dying isn’t just about how to leave this world and live better while we’re still here.

Here are five life lessons Hadley has learned from those nearing the end:

1. You’re never really starting over

In a world that celebrates reinvention but dreads failure, this reframe feels like a balm: “You actually never start over in life,” a patient once told Hadley. “You always start from experience.”

Whether it’s divorce, job loss, or another gutting pivot, viewing these chapters as regressions is tempting. But this patient—who rebuilt his restaurants repeatedly after hurricane damage—saw it differently. Every new beginning came with wisdom, not defeat.

For anyone in their late 20s or early 30s feeling like they’re “behind,” this is the perspective we rarely hear. You’re not behind—you’re building from experience.

2. Eat the cake

One of Hadley’s most affecting stories involved a younger hospice patient who recognized Hadley’s unspoken struggle with an eating disorder. Reflecting on her own life, the patient offered this truth: “I missed days at the beach with my friends because I cared about how my stomach looked… I really just wish, looking back, that I would have just eaten the cake—literally and figuratively.”

That line—eat the cake—lands like a hug and a wake-up call. How much of our lives do we spend obsessed with how we look, weigh, or are perceived when we could be soaking in the joy of messy, delicious, fully-lived moments?

3. There are no regrets—only redirections

Hadley shared the story of a patient who, at first, wasn’t sure whether he had any regrets. But then he told her, “I lost my job for smoking weed when I was in my twenties… but if I hadn’t lost that job, I wouldn’t have been in the grocery store on a Wednesday afternoon, where I met my wife.”

Even mistakes that seem like setbacks can become doorways to the life we were meant to live. That’s hindsight’s beauty—something the dying often realize far too late. What if we stopped punishing ourselves for missteps and instead looked for the meaning within them?

4. Death isn’t always sad

One of the most surprising things Hadley shares is that the end of life can be filled with peace, humor, and joy. “I think there’s actually a lot of happy times in hospice care,” she said. “There’s definitely a lot of humor from a lot of patients.”

Hadley recalled a patient who explained her comfort with dying through a metaphor: the party room. We collect people in our “earth room”—parents, partners, kids. But as we age, many leave for the “afterlife room.” Eventually, the afterlife looks more like the party you want to go to. “She was like, I’m just ready to go to the party,” Hadley said with a smile.

For anyone afraid of death, this metaphor is not only comforting—it’s empowering.

5. Our bodies—and spirits—know what to do

Hadley’s belief in an afterlife doesn’t come from faith but from experience. She’s seen countless patients talk to deceased loved ones, report seeing family members in the room, or say things like, “My husband says we’re going tonight.”

“I would say most of the time… people are always at peace,” she said. “They feel like their loved ones are coming to get them, and they feel ready and happy to go to whatever is next.”

Even the body, she says, knows how to shut down naturally, the same way it knows how to give birth. “It’s always, in my opinion, very peaceful whenever people take their last breath.”

If there’s one thing to take away from Nurse Hadley’s stories, it’s this: we don’t need to wait until we’re on the brink of death to start living more intentionally. We can eat the cake now. We can trust our detours. We can let go of the pressure to perfect it and start embracing the mess, missteps, and “party” around us.

Because one day, we’ll all be in that life review. Let’s ensure we fill our days with the moments we’ll remember—not the ones we missed out on because we were too busy trying to be perfect.

So text your best friend. Go on the trip. Forgive yourself. Eat the cake.

And maybe, just maybe, start living like you’ve already made peace with dying.