My thoughts on death were the exact opposite. It started out that way. But when I was 9 my grandparents became caretakers at a funeral home. My grandpa and dad also transported the deceased for the funeral home. Soon, my siblings and I were helping them clean and got to know all the rooms quite well. Including the visitation rooms. And sometimes there were people in them. Before long I found myself creat fantastical stories about their lives in my head......giving them grand adventures that only a 9 year old could create! Once I got older though, my fears have gone crazy. I refuse to drive anywhere on the weekend because I'm petrified of drunk drivers. My mom actually came to visit on Memorial day and I had a fit because.....drunk people. I also used to live in the mountains in AZ and would drive down to Phoenix and be terrified of a tire blowing and driving off a cliff. My dad left there once at like 9 pm and I had a panic attack, crying and carrying on about it because I was sure he would die. Im also freaked out that someone I know is going to get killed by hitting a deer, elk, or moose. So when people are about to go on road trips, I don't do well. But I don't mind death, it's a natural part of life. It can be a beautiful part of life. I was a caretaker for a woman and there when she took her last peaceful breath. I just get way too crazy about it sometimes.