virtuality

last sunday, an Israeli soldier in the air force, during a training session, fell from the sky and lost his life. this soldier happened to be not just any soldier, one of the countless members of the IDF, but the son of the first Israeli astronaut to go into space, who also tragically died when the NASA shuttle failed to safely reenter the earth's atmosphere.
this soldier also happened to be the friend of a good friend of mine. he was 20 years old, had a mother, three younger siblings, and a country, all of whom loved him.
apparently when the plane crash was cleared, they were not able to recover his body, and so buried an empty casket next to his father's grave, where his mother, in his eulogy, said ought to have been the place reserved for her, not used for him.
what are the marks of our lives? when there isn't even a body left from us, when the concept of a soul is so abstract and unrecognizable, especially in such a tragedy, how do we see the proof of existence, the proof that a life actually happened, and was not just a dream?

his facebook page is still up. His handsome face still smiles out of his profile, and his friends still make posts on his wall, but what does this mean? is a profile still a profile when it is just a shadow, an imprint? and now, who are the posts meant for? him, his family, his friends, or the one who makes the post?
when our virtual selves are still accessible, are we truly lost?