…that is, a death you see coming. You’re going over, or going on…or just going. Time and geography and people coalesce. Whoever else is present, they are not participating. There is only you. It reminded me of my father, who died at 78 from a massive coronary. He’d had a couple earlier heart attacks, and my mother hated for him to be in his garden, out of sight. She was afraid something would happen and he’d have no one. But he would say, “Dying is something I have to do alone anyway.”
I have no insights or wisdom to impart, only the image of that existential singularity of time and place and person. It brings clarity: What must we do now? How must we live? What must we believe and act on that will make that last conscious thought one of peace and acceptance, and not one of regret and longing?