Joy

Tig Notaro truly contains multitudes. She has the ability to keep people howling by charmingly re-framing the world in an absurd, yet hilariously joyous way. And this same brilliant mind that brings uproarious laughter, also delivers vulnerable depth in equal measure.

After the death of her close friend, poet Andrea Gibson, Notaro appeared on CNN's All There Is with Anderson Cooper podcast to discuss grief. (Gibson, who used they/them pronouns, and their wife Megan Falley documented their love and mortality in the gut-wrenching—and also beautifully funny—documentary Come See Me in the Good Light, directed by Ryan White.)

Cooper, who has also often been open about his struggle to make sense of death and pain, was ready to jump right in.

Their conversation was heartbreaking, beautiful, and even hilarious.

Notaro is asked about her friendship with Gibson, who passed in 2025, and what it was like to be there in the moment. "I don't even know how to explain what I was just a part of and what I just witnessed. It really, really resonated on a deep level. The humanity was on overdrive."

After Cooper shares that witnessing the death of someone so close is incredibly moving, Notaro adds, "It's really making me re-think a lot of things in my life. I think I want a new normal. I'm not holding onto anything that's not real. I don't know if it's right to say make friends with that idea of dying, but it really should be more in conversation. I don't want my death to sneak up on my kids. Although I've had a lot of health issues, so I don't know if it's gonna sneak up on anyone! But I really have such a new…" Notaro pauses for a moment for some clarity. "Not that I'm gonna abandon comedy and become a death doula."

They seemingly half-jokingly discuss the idea of becoming duel death doulas, with Notaro suggesting they have business cards made up. "Anderson and Tig's death doula. Sir. Let's do this! I think people would freak out if we were who showed up in the final moments of their life."

Returning to the initial conversation, Notaro shares "But this experience with Andrea really made me understand the importance of really talking about death. Rather than live my life fearing death and trying to kick it away at every possible move I'm making. Cuz it's coming."

In an exclusive with Upworthy, Notaro was willing to leave no stone unturned. (I've known her since our 20s, and she has always been quick to make a room explode with laughter, while always game to go deep at anytime.)

Upworthy: I know you've experienced so much grief, and I'd imagine fear, caused by your own health issues over the years. What do you think it was about Andrea passing, in particular, that made you feel like you were really ready to talk about it?

Notaro: "Yeah, I’ve had a lot of practice with grief: losing love, loved ones, body parts, and health in general. It's humbling. With Andrea, I think it wasn’t just the loss, it was the clarity. Andrea had already been speaking so openly about mortality and love, that when they died, it felt like the conversation didn’t stop, it just shifted. When I was personally diagnosed with cancer in 2012, I didn’t process it in a poetic way like Andrea did. I was more like: 'Okay, this is happening. Also, I have a show tonight.' I think that’s how I survived things before: I kept moving until my body or heart said: 'Nope. Sit down.' Andrea’s death made me sit down. It made me realize I wasn’t trying to be brave, I was just ready to be honest with myself and make changes that would make things feel more congruent in my life."

Upworthy: If you did become a death doula (and I'd like to hire you if so), what are some of the important things you'd discuss with a person who was dying? What would you say to their families/loved ones to help ease the pain?

Notaro: "To the person dying, I’d probably say very little. I’d listen. And when I did talk, it would be more about comfort: do you need a blanket? We're all here. You are so loved—which was basically what we were all telling Andrea in those final days. To families and loved ones, I’d say: 'There’s no correct way to be present, you don’t have to say the perfect thing, you showed up and that counts more than anything you could possibly say—it's massive.'"

Upworthy: I had a friend who died a few years ago and I swear I felt him in my room just a few days later. I know not everyone believes in such things, and maybe it's our brain trying to make sense of stuff, but have you experienced anything like that?

Notaro: "I'm sorry for the loss of your friend. I think it's so nice to know you feel/felt them in whatever capacity. I don’t walk around having clear, cinematic experiences of people visiting me from the other side, but I wish I did. But I have had moments where someone felt very near, whatever that means. And whether that’s spiritual or neurological or emotional or all of it mashed together, I'm just going with it. If something brings comfort and doesn’t hurt anyone, I’m not interested in debunking it. I’m tired. Let people feel things."

Upworthy: Is there anything else you'd like to share about your friendship with Andrea?

Notaro: "Well, Andrea was one of those people who made you feel more honest just by being around them. They were really, deeply funny and deeply gentle in a way that wasn’t fragile. I miss their literal voice. And their words. They didn’t waste any of them. The very last thing Andrea said to me at their bedside was: 'Tig, I loved being your friend.' So simple but so beautiful. I will also always really, really miss the way Andrea's smile lifted the lines on their cheeks. It was one of my favorite things to see, but it also usually meant Andrea was laughing, which was always a joy to hear—that deep, deep belly laughter will forever be missed."