ALAN MARRIOTT WRITES: The fortune cookie is usually a joyous thing at the end of an Oriental meal...offering notes of ancient Chinese wisdom which generally bring joy and hope.

However, the one I was given at Mountbatten (formerly known as the hospice), offered a more sobering question.

To be fair it is designed to, and mine asked me: Where Would You Prefer to Die? Something I hadn't really given a lot of thought to.

I, like many people, don't really want to consider when the Grim Reaper will come a calling, but the message from Mountbatten is that it is something we should all be planning for.

So, when on Saturday, I went to visit the widow of a friend who had died at the age of 62 in Mountbatten earlier this month, it was something we chatted about.

She told me that knowing the end was coming, he had prepared his own funeral, got his affairs in order and generally left things neat and tidy. Although his death was still as distressing as any departure must be, at least they knew the plans.

I have not yet reached the big 60 but I could shuffle off the mortal coil at any time I guess, and what have I done to prepare for it? Absolutely zilch.

I don't have a will, I have no preferences for burial or cremation and only I know I want everyone to sing Bruce Springsteen's Thunder Road at my wake.

The message in Mountbatten's Advance Care Plan is that it spares your nearest and dearest from having to guess what your wishes are.

Without wishing to tempt fate, I am in reasonable health but we don't always know what is coming round the corner, and as the Advanced Care Plan says; planning is a normal part of life and the difficult questions that come with a life-limiting condition such as cancer or motor neurone disease are best tackled early on, so your loved ones are not left without the power to make those decisions in your stead.

Despite all the talk of celebrations of life etc, death is a miserable business, particularly for those left behind, so, as my friend did, I think it is up to us all to put our affairs in order so that loved ones don't have to endure that stress on top of everything else.

And, for the record, I want to die with the best care and pain relief, certainly not at home, where my death would be a permanent scar on the house for those left behind.

But to lighten the mood, I leave you with this from Winston Churchill: "I am ready to meet my Maker. Whether my Maker is prepared for the ordeal of meeting me is another matter."