I'm not going to rate this book, it feels inappropriate. It was a calm and rational book about mortality, and a man's journey to make meaning out of his life. It definitely has its shortcomings, but what doesn't? I had hoped for more passion and his wife says that is what is missing from this book, and something she loved about him, along with his sense of humour, which is also not here.

But there are some beautiful reflections to give pause. It's definitely, strangely - given he's a 37 yo man dying from a rarely occurring cancer - a privileged experience of dying and is a perspective not experienced by most. Does that change the experience? Or is dying the ultimate leveller?