When I was younger my Dad used to tell me roadkill was just sleeping. I remember accepting this for a while. One day, my Mom was driving behind someone who ran

When I was younger my Dad used to tell me roadkill was just sleeping. I remember accepting this for a while. One day, my Mom was driving behind someone who ran over a cat. The cat thrashed around in the road for a long time until it finally laid down, breathing very hard. My Mom told me to stay in the car and told me explicitly "you don't want to see what this cat goes through right now." I sat and contemplated what the cat must be going through and came to a point where I felt I understood it. The next year, when my neighbor killed herself, I was able to accept her passing with much more ease. IMO a gradual path to accepting death worked out well for me.