“Do you have her password for Facebook?” My sister, Louise, looked across the table from behind our mother’s iPad, while I leafed through a tiny notebook full of scribbled telephone numbers, addresses and an occasional user ID and password. “Nope,” I said. “Nothing here.”
Only the day before, our nonagenarian mother, Miep, had passed away peacefully. Louise and I, still numb, were in her apartment, going through the next steps – cards, funeral arrangements – and trying to erase her digital footprint.
She didn’t have a huge online presence; insecure about the digital world, Mum had really only played Wordfeud with us, read the news, checked local shops for their weekly offers, and sent emails to her friends and family. She had a Facebook account only to keep up on…
