Difficult to write about, as a reader I find I am usually left feeling bereft after I read about it. Not because of the inherent fear of it but because someone else's interpretation of it is so far off the mark of my own. Until I read this from "I Curse the River of Time" by Per Petterson. Heart-breaking.
"But when it came to dying, I was scared. Not of being dead, that I could not comprehend, to be nothing was impossible to grasp and therefore really nothing to be scared of, but dying itself I could not comprehend, the very instant when you know that now comes what you have always feared, and you suddenly realise that every chance of being the person you really wanted to be, is gone forever, and the one you were, is the one those around you remember. Then that must feel like someone's strong hands slowly tightening their grip around your neck until you can breath no more, and not at all as when a door is slowly pushed open and bright light comes streaming out from the inside and a woman or a man you have always known and always liked, maybe always loved, leans out and gently takes your hand and leads you in to a place of rest, so mild and so fine, from eternity to eternity."