Chaplain and grief counselor Tamar Stein brings hope and compassion to patients and families, easing the fear of final transitions

Switching Lanes

Life was paint colors, backsplashes, and kitchen tiles. My kids were young, my interior design job was part time, and my schedule was flexible. After a short certification program, I worked for eight years — first for a company, and then as a freelancer. But while I loved the creative aspect of designing rooms for my clients, the constant deadlines and stress were sapping away any enjoyment I’d once found in my career.

The one aspect of interior design I still enjoyed was spending time with my clients, many of whom became personal friends. After helping them pick kitchen tiles, we schmoozed and connected “off the clock.” But it wasn’t enough to make me feel fulfilled. My daily routine had become a daily grind.

“What should I do?” I asked my husband. Going back to school to learn a new career was overwhelming — and I had no idea what I wanted. My post-seminary the-world-is-my-oyster attitude had been submerged in the tidal wave of everyday life. I was stuck.

While working and worrying about my future, I also had a close family member who was very sick. Toward the end of her life, she was in hospice care, and I spent as much time with her as possible until she passed away. Aside from grandparents, it was my first experience losing someone close, and I needed time to process my raw grief. My world was shaken, and I was left with a strong desire to do something in her honor.

At the time, a client who was a grief counselor told me about her work in hospice care, where she visited and spoke to patients. Her words resonated deeply, and I knew this was something I wanted to do.