But come to your death as an angel to wrestle instead of an executioner to fight or flee from and you turn your dying into a question instead of an edict: What shall my life mean? What shall my time of dying be for? What is it going to be like, that cottage of darkness? If you work hard in your dying days, the answer could be, “Not like anything you’ve known.” Dying turns into something you live. The trick here is that to be able to ask questions like that you have to know, somewhere in your bones, that you will die.
