My father was terrified to die. He was in hospice care at my house and he was so scared. He would cry at night and I would go and sit with him and he would pluck at my sleeve and beg me to tell him that he had nothing to be afraid of.  During the day, when the church members were visiting, he had a little more swagger...he would say things like, "God, you owe me a miracle." All growing up, he told me that he wasn't going to die, but he was going to be raptured. He said the Lord had told him that, so I spent most of my childhood sad that I wouldn't get to grow old and afraid that any bad thing I did might make me miss the rapture.

When he was dying, people lined up in droves to get a blessing or word from the "prophet" but they all disappeard when it came time to change his diaper or give him a bath or meds or just deal with the hard stuff. He did tell me that he was learning who his real friends and family were.