Last March, as part of a series called The End, reported by Times correspondents around the world, John Shields of Victoria, British Columbia, permitted me to enter not just his life, but also his death. It was, undoubtedly, one of the most profound workdays I have ever had.

In May, I wrote this behind-the-scenes story about how I came to be in Mr. Shields’s hospice room that morning. It was slated to be published at the same time as my story about his death, together with Leslye Davis’s wonderful photos and video. But as often happens in journalism, it was held. Until now.

What I wrote then remains true today. I carry the memory of Mr. Shields’s death with me like prayer beads. For me, it has become a mantra not only about dying well, but also about living well.

TORONTO — The first living wake I heard about was Rob Gray’s.

His wife described how two dozen loved ones had gathered around him in his hospital bed a couple of hours before his scheduled death. They serenaded him, drank champagne and each delivered a loving tribute.