About
Designed for the hardest moments—with care, clarity, and compassion.
In 2020, Liz Keyser lost her mom, Susan—suddenly and without warning. Years earlier, she had experienced the same kind of loss with her dad. Both times, the grief was staggering. But what surprised her most was how unprepared she felt.
Questions came fast. Decisions piled up. The options were confusing, impersonal, and overwhelming. There was no clear path—only a deep, aching sense of being alone in the dark.
For the past five years, Liz has been envisioning a better way forward. That vision became Dandelion—a steady, compassionate guide for people navigating loss, grief, and end-of-life planning.
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Founder of Dandelion | Legacy Optimist | Mom of Three
Before Dandelion, Liz spent two decades turning complex logistics into meaningful experiences—producing large-scale events for companies like Google and Facebook. She built and sold two successful businesses, mastering the art of planning under pressure.
But after losing both parents, she felt called to something different.
She created Dandelion to bring heart and humanity to something we all avoid: talking about death. With her professional skillset and personal journey as her guide, Liz is helping others prepare for what’s ahead—so they can show up with clarity, calm, and compassion when it matters most.
She lives in California with her husband, three kids, and a very spoiled dog.
Dandelion begins before the loss.
It helps open the conversation around end-of-life wishes, gives you a place to share those plans with loved ones, and offers tools for the days and months that follow.
✱Because planning ahead isn’t about control. It’s about kindness.
✱ It’s not for you. It’s for them.
We believe you don’t have to do it all at once. You can start small—just a few notes, a contact list, a single wish written down. Those little things can become lifelines for your family later.
Let’s take care of it now, so they don’t have to do it later.
Why a Dandelion?
When Liz was little, she would gather dandelions from her wild backyard and bundle them into messy little bouquets for her mom, Susan. She always accepted them as if they were priceless. To this day, whenever Liz sees a dandelion, she thinks of her mom.
Susan was a force—brave, fierce, and full of heart. A survivor in every sense, she poured her strength into lifting others up. She is the reason Liz does this work.
Dandelions are often overlooked, but they are powerful symbols of resilience, hope, and healing. They thrive in the harshest places—even in the cracks of concrete. They remind us that beauty and strength can rise from the most unlikely conditions.
That’s why Liz chose the dandelion. It’s not just a memory of her mom. It’s everything she stood for.
When great souls die, after a period peace blooms, slowly and always irregularly. Our senses, restored, never to be the same, whisper to us. They existed. They existed. We can be. Be and be better. For they existed.
— Maya Angelou, When Great Trees Fall