But here I am, struggling with the knowledge that if I died today, half of who I am would be obliterated - by neglect or by expiration, by a kid needing a computer, by nobody else being aware of who I am online. I have become: a patient and encouraging adviser on Yahoo! Answers, an overwhelmed yet courageous step-mom on a stepmothers' site, and a blogger who struggles to understand motivation. A virtual life that will just disappear, perhaps staying suspended in time for a while as long as the memory is available for old posts and accounts aren't updated.
That's not even going into all the files on my computer that someone would blow away without reading any of it. All of those things I consider precious and important - most likely treated like clutter and trash.
Thus the quest for digital immortality. The need to plant a flag that says "I was here!" And put neon signs on that flag so my husband can find it.
I've recently learned about the "digital executor". This is the person who is saddled with the responsibility of handling the digital accounts and assets of a deceased person. Closing out e-mail and Facebook accounts, making sure the right people are notified of your demise, making sure your data and passwords get into the right hands. This is a fascinating topic to me, a dramatic change in how we view assets and inheritance. You might inherit a flash drive and a password instead of a business and a bank account. How bizarre is that?
What will happen to all of my pictures, videos, novels, notes, and songs? How do I even start to define what gets saved and what gets lost? Who will ever care?
Who will ever care?
