Thank you, Dysart, for sharing Larkin’s poem “Aubade”. It was starkly beautiful, in a horrifying kind of way, but reassuring to see that there are others who wrestle with and agonize over death.
Hitchens was the consummate individual, intellectually admirable, and true to himself.
And I have to think the pensive Hitchens really did wrestle with these primal fears despite his bluster, and it's possible he may have found hope someday given more time. He's RIP now.