Looking at death, I do not accept it.
Seeing death, I know it is inevitable.
Knowing of my eventual death, I accept it.
Death will happen, there is nothing to be done, no preparation for it other than being good while I am alive.
There is no way for me to be sure of my body position in death, until the mortuary bends and twists me to fit the mold of death in my coffin.
There is no way of knowing the mode - the how - of my death until it is upon me and I will not know of it, being dead already.
The 'why' of my death will remain always a mystery clothed in human reasons, but it will offer little consolation, because no one can know the reasons 'why'.
Aspects of death are always unknown to the dead, and beyond human explanations no one can truly say what it is or why we even accept it.
Through all the sorrow it brings to loved one's hearts, death cannot be accepted, yet it is.