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My book - No! I Don't Want to Join a Bookclub - is not only about the birth of my beloved grandson (there are now two grandsons, which is even better), but also about death. I don't know about anyone else, but I've seen, in my life, about five people die, been with them in the run-up to their deaths and, in some instances, actually been with them at the moment of death. It's a moving moment, and very salutary because, of course, one day we're all going to be in the same position.
You start to be able to tell, just by looking at their faces, whether they're going to last for months, weeks, or days. And so often it's extraordinary, when they actually do die, of almost seeing their soul leave their body. There's no big drama about it, no noise or bellowing of trumpets. No. One minute they're there, the next minute they're gone - and their moment of leaving is so light and quiet, just as if a chiffon scarf were removed from them and tossed, fluttering, into the air.
I'm glad to say that I've never seen anyone go, as Dylan Thomas exhorted, in a fury.













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