I've talked to a lot of people who were dying and I'm always very edgy about giving advice. There's a huge amount of diversity in humanity and people respond to things very differently. Some folks are scared to death of death and when they hear that they or a loved one is going to die, they become petrified and it's not a fault of theirs (frankly, I think that our culture conditions people to be that way). But dying is an absolutely essential part of living (and survival), so I want to tell you about my father's death.
He was diagnosed with lung cancer and told that he might have 6 moths to live - turned out to be more like a year and a half. He was 82 and said that he had a good life and was ready to go, and I never saw any evidence to the contrary. His last months were some of the best in his life - he had a blast. We did all the stuff he really enjoyed which included gold and gem hunting. He didn't seem to have much discomfort until a couple of weeks before he died. He could do things until a couple of days before he died. He wasn't to be stopped. One day, they were planning to move him into a hospice facility a week or so before he was expected to go. He told the orderly that let him know that they shouldn't bother because, "I won't be here tomorrow." Sure enough, he died 5 minutes before midnight. He enjoyed life right up until the end.
The morning of his funeral was gray and rainy, but an hour before, the sun came our and stayed out until an hour after.
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