Alone in Death

This evening, my Mom told me that a family friend had died of a heart attack yesterday. He was single and lived alone. The neighbours felt something was amiss as his home was dark in the evening, and broke his door to investigate when he didn't answer the doorbell. I had met the family friend, but was not well-acquainted with him. From my parents and from tributes to him on Facebook, I learnt that he was very warm and outgoing, and one of the anchors of the Bengali community in Thane. But, the part of the story that struck a chord with me is that he died alone.
Long-time single people give a lot of thought to living alone. How to minimize the possibility of illness by taking good care of yourself, how to cope with the inevitable loneliness, etc. But as a young healthy singleton I haven't contemplated what it would be like to die alone. In the UK, one hears stories of old people who die and are not found for weeks because they don't have anyone checking on them regularly. The stories are heart-breaking. Everyone deserves a quick and dignified passing. And families deserve to know of their loved ones' passing so that they don't berate themselves for having gone about their lives in blissful ignorance till the time they found out.
As a singleton who lives abroad, I often think about how my folks would find outif something were to happen to me. My mother, being of a similar anxious bent of mind, has made me pass on contact details of my friends.