His voice was weaker. "I thought I'd die on my birthday," he said. Did he mean that he'd thought it appropriate to die on that anniversay, I wondered aloud.
"No, on Monday, which was my birthday, I really thought I was dying."
"Did you see the other side?" I asked.
"I saw something."
"Can you tell me about it?" I tried to keep my voice casual.
"All I can tell you is, it was not unpleasant."
At that point I felt that I was intruding past reasonable prying.
That was Friday. On Sunday, I got the call that he had gone to that place.
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