This isn't a question I devote enough time to, and, when I do, it tends to drift off into a fantasy of the death of a Victorian paterfamilias surrounded by his loved ones. And then I read two articles yesterday which stopped me in my tracks: Christopher Howse in the Telegraph and Pastor Iuventus in the Catholic Herald, to which I can't find a link.
Christopher Howse talks about finding himself, as he thought on the brink of death; the young priest talks about being with the dying.
The very last question in the Penny Catechism asks what you should do after your night prayers.
"After my night prayers I should observe due modesty in going to bed; occupy myself with thoughts of death; and endeavour to compose myself to rest at the foot of the cross, and give my last thoughts to my crucified Saviour."
I remember as a seven year old learning a new hymn at school: all I remember now is the first line "Dear St Joseph, Spouse of Mary" and the repeated last line "Teach, O teach us how to die!". As seven year olds we sang it with gusto: it has a memorable lively tune; but that's all I remember.
Learning how to die has gone out of fashion. But a couple of weeks before my father died, he told me that he remembered his lessons: he had been taught as a boy how a good Catholic should die, and had seen good Catholics die according to the teaching he had received. And so he embraced death as a gift from God, and God gave him a gift of being in his own home, having family around him saying the Rosary, and a priest to say the Commendation as he died; and God gave an Indian doctor who was present the gift of seeing that even the English sometimes know how to "do death".
(My father was the sort of literal-minded man whose examination of Conscience was based on the Ten Commandments and on "Have I clothed anyone who was naked?" "Have I visited anybody in prison?" etc. He thought the SVP was God's gift to him to allow him to do what Jesus wanted him to do.)
My death might not be imminent: but it might be. So might yours. Are we prepared?