Every day I spend at least a couple of minutes imagining myself torn apart by arrows, crashed against the stones by fierce winds or a crashing wave, or facing death in honorable combat. In making my death a constant part of my life, I master it and it holds no power over me. In thinking about death daily, I appreciate life and its' wonders that much more. Big problems become smaller and complexities simpler. All I really have to do is live and die, then journey from one end to another is just details.
Morbid? Probably, but it keeps me sane. It's also given me a unique perspective on death and loss. I've lost a lot of people close to me in the past few years, and while not all of them have died, some of them probably wish I would. Others don't wish for anything anymore - because they're dead. They don't get to make the journey anymore because they've done the final thing that they truly had to do. I don't know what happens to them, but I have a feeling that it's mostly good, stress free, and pretty peaceful.
Sure, I mourn them in my own peculiar way, but that's how I cope. I miss them when I think of them, but I also wish them the best. My favorites are the ones who chose how they went gently into that good night, but I still mourn the ones that, tragically, had their lives ended early. I'm sure that when the time comes and I want to die, it will be in a manner of my choosing, and I hope that folks will respect my wishes.
Think about this stuff the next time you're presented with options to keep someone lingering on, or to stop a life before it really has a chance to get started. Honor the wishes of the living, and respect the memories you have of the dead.