At age 81, (almost 82) , it will stare me in the face sooner or later.
I choose to believe that it is only a step on the next rung of the eternal ladder, but of course I am not sure.
That's why we call it "faith".
I have always prided myself on an excellent relationship with my maker, no matter which church I would attend at times, if any at all; and I mosttimes have believed that he answers my prayers. Sadly enough (for me) sometimes the answer is NO.
I've seen people dying in peace who were not religious, and I've seen people dying screaming who were supposedly very religious. I've had an "enemy" dying in my lap, and cried louder for him than I ever cried for anybody else.
I pray that when the time comes I will have the strength to face it with dignity. ( and b.t.w. I LOVE that story of the guy who wanted to die on his feet, with his medals on.)
Perhaps I will be drinking beer from the skulls of my slain enemies, in Walhalla afterall