Yorkshire Pudding was musing on the subject of his own mortality the other day and coincidentally I have been doing the same of late.
Like YP, the prospect of death isn’t something I think about often except in the most abstract ‘sometime in the future’ sort of way. But as Ray Charles observed: ‘Live each day like it’s your last, ’cause one day you gonna be right’.
And should that inevitable day arrive without warning what will happen to some of the things that are important to me? For example, Shooting Parrots would shudder to a literal dead stop. No sign off and no goodbyes — it will be no more, cease to be, bereft of life, will rest in peace, in other words, an ex-parrot.
Much of what I value is connected to my computer and computers demand passwords and PINs which are in my head or are tucked safely away in the Sticky Password program that I use so those I leave behind will not be able to get the many, many photos I’ve taken over the years, or even more worryingly, almost two decades of family history research. Then there is my family history website which would simply disappear if I wasn’t there to pay the hosting fee.
So I have decided that I need to write instructions for those I leave behind about how to access all this stuff hidden in my electronic attic. Of course, they might decide it’s just a load of junk to be got rid of in a digital house clearance!