It’s a question often asked and leads people down different paths. Religion, literature, astrology, myth have all provided answers and yet none is any more powerful or accurate than another, as far as we know. Perhaps we find Elysian Fields in a place where the sun is always warm and the nights are always cool, the smell of lavender drifting to our noses. Or perhaps we become nothingness, dissolving to dust and food for the earth, an unending blackness. But I believe that we live through those who come after us, as the paint in the canvas of the artist, the splatter of ink on the pages that will stand against the test of time. I believe that we go where we are needed, and are received with relief and joy. These things I believe, but I admit I do not know.