What a difficult experience this must be. To know that life has ended and as though the dimming glow of a candle wick, to quickly fade into darkness. I wonder if this is a moment of release and cathartic decompression or a few troubled seconds of blind panic. Could this be like inhabiting a darkening house in which the lights grow dim and the walls fold as they close in with origami-like certainty as the basic functions of living and neurocognition flicker and fail.
It is a measure of the failure of philosophy as much as science to provide us so very little solace in the face of this uniquely stark fact of human experience. Science finds itself as mystified and listless as all other branches and bifurcations of belief. I do not know what to think or to say but the hollow fear of meaningless life is not easily supplanted by either the performative wish fulfilment of an unprovable faith or the resolutely barren determinism of bounded experience in time without spirit or hope.