Meaning of life?

With the death of my good friend Martha last month, the whole issue of "what happens after you die" has naturally risen to the forefront of my small, wandering mind. Is death really the end?  Is our short time on earth really all there is? Is what makes us who we are extinguished forever? Is there such thing as a soul and does it die as well? 

It's probably wishful thinking but it would be nice to think that the essence of who we are, our soul or spirit or anima, continues on in some fashion.  Maybe it inhabits another physical body and continues to strive for perfection.  Maybe it inhabits another body and continues the work it started while the first body was alive.  Maybe it doesn't inhabit another body but can still influence or affect things that happen here on earth.  Or maybe none of the above. Maybe it doesn't exist. Maybe what  you see is what you get, just a mass of cells and blood and bones. 

But really, who knows?  We can believe anything we want because that's the crucial point: no one knows because everyone who could know is already dead and thus cannot (or will not) communicate with those who are still alive.  Therefore, in my small, wandering brain, it's OK to think that the spirit of Martha is alive somehow, that her goodness is still present in that spirit.  No one can prove otherwise.

Oh, this all sounds so childish and foolish, doesn't it?  Talking about spirits and dead people. 

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