The meaning of death for the living is not exhausted by fear. The thought of death also brings sadness. Whatever the truth of religious assurances about an afterlife or reincarnation, the thought of one's own death and the death of everyone you know is still sad. So much beauty leaves this world with the death of each loved individual that however fervently one believes in its translation above, the sadness remains, otherwise funerals would be joyful occasions. The truth is that those who are left behind feel the lack.
Death takes someone from the world and leaves a hole where that person used to live.
As for my own death, and yours, I am inclined to say with the philosopher Socrates that we should reserve our judgement about death, since we have no idea whether it is a good thing, a bad thing, or nothing. The trouble is that while you can conceive of your own death abstractly, it is impossible to imagine it, since to imagine is still to exist. Perhaps it is a help to think that no matter how bored you get with life, no matter how jaded, there is us at least one new thing for each of us to do, and that is to die. Timing is all. Until that time, live.