What happens when we die?

I cannot pretend to feel impartial about the colours. I rejoice with the brilliant ones, and am genuinely sorry for the poor browns. When I get to heaven I mean to spend a considerable portion of my first million years in painting, and so get to the bottom of the subject. But then I shall require a still gayer palette than I get here below. I expect orange and vermilion will be the darkest, dullest colours upon it, and beyond them there will be a whole range of wonderful new colours which will delight the celestial eye.

The worms get to feast.

Our friends are sad and miss us for a bit but, hopefully, they find other people at the party.

I don’t know and I don’t really care – I’ll be dead.

I don’t know, and I’m completely OK with not knowing.

When my kids ask, “What happens when we die?” I say, “Do you remember the place you were in before you were born? I think we go back there.”

An accounting is given of our lives. Did you give more than you’ve taken? Hurt more people than you’ve helped?

I think we live on in people’s memories until those memories go.

I think we become stars.

We finally get to be with Jesus, face to face.

Hopefully we have life in the minds and hearts of the people we interacted with.