Maybe you’re here because life cracked open in a way you never wanted.
Maybe a death, a diagnosis, or a slow unraveling has brought you to this place.  If that’s you, welcome and pull up a chair.

Maybe you’re a soulopreneur and/or heart-led human who walks alongside people in hard seasons like divorce, disability, or death. You care deeply and you have your own life. The rules you were taught in school and your certification program don’t seem to contain the reality you face.  You want resources that reflect and integrate your heart and your head.  If that’s you, welcome and pull up a chair.

Perhaps you’re a friend, family member, or colleague of someone who’s just experienced a significant loss.
You want to help, but you don’t know how.   If that’s you, I want to honor how rarely our world teaches us how to support our people through grief.). If that’s you, welcome and pull up a chair.

Maybe you are all little bit of all of the above.  If that’s you, welcome and pull up a chair.

What You Can Expect on the Porch

If you pull up a chair and join me here, you’ll receive:

• Genuine reflections, often with mistakes

• Musings from someone who’s still figuring it out

• Writing that’s one-part processing and one-part prayer

• Resources to support you in the deep waters of grief and grown-up life

You’ll also get occasional updates about workshops, gentle gatherings, and new tools I create to help heart-led humans navigate the practical and emotional work of life, loss, and legacy.

Places to Start on Our Website

• Curated grief and logistics resources (books, podcasts, tools, referrals)
• My book A New Path: A Practical Workbook and Planner for the First Year of Grief and Settling Your Person’s Affairs
• Digital downloads you can use or send as a gift

A Little Bit About Me

 I’m Megan—sometimes called The Accidental Matriarch.
I love coffee, cats, comfy things, and deep conversation. I wear lots of color, talk to trees, forget to sweep, and stare too long at water. I’m married to Joe (a.k.a. The Accidental Patriarch), and we’re learning how to parent young adults while missing our own parents every single day.

This work isn’t just professional for me—it’s personal. My mission is to help people navigate the invisible labor of loss, not just with logistics, but with presence, grace, and maybe even a little meaning.

And just so you know: I’m not perfect. There will be typos. (I literally don’t see them—even when I read things out loud.) I’m a soul-o-preneur learning this digital landscape as I go, and I see value in connecting with you, not in polishing every sentence.

If you’re seeking a place to slow down and make sense of these uncertain times.  A place where grief meets gratitude, emotions meet paperwork, and soulcare meets the practical labor of life and legacy, come join me on the back porch.

With you on the journey,

Megan