Menostaldjika; Looking Back, Thinking Ahead

I was sitting here the day before today wondering what on earth I was going to ramble on about in this post. My good pal, Jenn of the Country Cottage Reflections, provided a prompt. She had been wondering about where bloggers go. 

I have seen this brought up over different years by different bloggers around the traps, and for those of us who are getting long in the tooth, it is a pertinent question. 

We are all familiar with how visitors to our blog come and go, much as folk do in 'life actual' and that not many can be around for the entire duration of time. The few with whom we build a relationship beyond just casual reading/commenting, though, do come to matter to us, and if they have been running blogs themselves, it can be sad when they cease writing, whatever their reason. We miss them. I know I do with several of our old 'Blogville' residents. Several have swapped almost entirely to Facebook if at all they remain online. A part of the netiverse that I have not and will not visit. One way or another, though, we spot them or hear of them via our network. (For example, those of you who know Princess Leah may like to know that she pops up occasionally on the instything, so I know she is doing well. I also share hearts with Linda, mama to Astro and the late Mitzie there.) So, we must accept that the rolling by of life sees folk enter our sphere and then leave it again, or our connections find the required balance. 

However, Jenn's point was very much about what happens to the online presence of those who can no longer maintain them? It may be that the folk themselves have simply lost interest and don't care about what is left on air. Health and death are the two main issues, though, for inactivity. Concerning that point, did you know that you can set up instructions to Google via their Inactivity Manager? I recently had the experience of the original Aatmaavrajanam blog having any editing operations blocked and all the comments removed from it - although not confirmed, I have to assume this was Google taking precaution due to there having been no action on that blog for well over twelve months. Although initially frustrated, I am actually quite glad of it.

There are arguments for leaving one's presence in the ether intact. Just think of all the history programs you have watched in recent times that have relied upon researchers delving into letters and essays and photographs of ordinary people. If at all there is an interest in history, it comes truly alive when we can relate to it. Not the great moments, the big battles, the pusillanimous politics, soldierly shenanigans or princely prancings. Yes, those play their part, but is it not that history truly serves its purpose when we can listen to the words of the tailor, fisherman or weaver-woman from a span of decades, or even centuries? When we visit historic sites, is it not that we want to see how the kitchen worked, the lavatories, the wardrobes? 

The best of history comes from the ordinary everyday. Understanding society by historians, archaeologists, anthropologists and sociologists comes from obtaining as wide a spectrum of information available from that society as they can. 

How many of you reading this now maintain blogs and other media for the simple reason of recording your life and the things that interest you for your own memory jogging and for your friends and family? Is it unreasonable to suggest that you are actually building into that ongoing archive of social history? Of course, it is your prerogative to say that you do not wish for that. Herein lies the crux of the matter. Have you thought ahead about whether or not you wish your digital presence to remain long after you do not?

Bear in mind (and I might ask forgiveness, but really, this has to be faced) that none of us knows when our end is due. Simple fact. There are blogs out there just hanging. The owners have passed away, and no one knew or was interested in tidying up their digital affairs. 

At the very least, consider sorting out the Google Inactivity alert. It would also be worth putting all your (non-financial) passwords and the items they access into a list, then nominate someone to attend your online matters in the event of your passing. To this end, allow me to direct you towards the Digital Legacy Association (there may be other such services, but this looks pretty comprehensive): here is what their founder has to say -

Do not think that because you are not actively caring for others, this doesn't help. The link provided over DLAs name above takes you to their page, providing useful insight and talking about digital wills. It might seem or feel a tad extreme as you read that, but we have such a wealth online - it ought to be treated as respectfully and carefully as any other of our 'estate.'  I have certainly been pondering this pretty much all this year. It can be easy, at low-mood times, to wonder why on earth one is bothering. Then the understanding of the wider social context hits in. Also, knowing the interest and joy I get from reading and viewing others' daily offerings, including their struggles and mayhem, and seeing some of the incredible responses given to some of my own presentations, motivation is kept up. It has also, during this year, strengthened the desire to make more meaningful and topical posts on a more regular basis. Such as this!

Now to one blogpal of long past, one of the very first to become a regular on DoWY comments. Jenn's post had been prompted by this same lady. She had found out what I had not been able to ascertain for myself but had strongly suspected... Kay is now in long-term care of a memory ward (no further details). 

K L Davies made me laugh, think, and, at times, grit my teeth! Right from our first contact through her comments here, we also became firm email pals. There were occasions during our pen-palling that I wondered at her mental condition. During the year that we built up to her visitation with me in 2016, I surmised that much of the resistance she was describing coming from her husband might be due to his worry about her mind. I contacted him directly with reassurances, not least that I had a health care background. Eventually, Kay was on her way. This was a trip she had dreamed of since her young years. It meant the world to her. The month prior to her arrival, not a day passed without her asking about what to fit into the few days we had together. She would study Maps and come back to me with 'we could just go here.. oh how about here?!' and I'd have to get back to her advising a choice was to be made. That 20 miles on Scotland's smaller roads equalled 200 by Canadian standards. Managing her expectations was one of my most difficult tasks. I loved her enthusiasm, but - as I muttered to father the week before her arrival - I suspected there was some difficulty of perception.

During that intense, fascinating, thrilling and beautiful tour, I had all my suspicions confirmed. I could not (nor was it my place to) discuss this with Kay, and I did not contact Richard about the matter. Our time was brief, and as long as I was there, all was well. At least once a day, Kay would say, 'watch me please,' and I recognised that she recognised her mental facility was starting to fail. I was grateful she agreed to let me understand her medication regime, which proved useful on several occasions. Once she had returned to Canada, there were few emails. When I did get one or two, they seemed to suggest she had not seen or did not recall the ones I had sent to her. Also, on her blog, posts became very few, filtering to none by August 2018. The posts that did appear displayed some...hmm... disorganisation. The last email I had from Kay talked of her taking a walk and 'being very unsteady' by which I took to mean she ought perhaps to not have been walking at all, unaccompanied. I wrote several emails after that, including one to the address I had for Richard, without result. I am therefore grateful to Jenn for having learned that Kay is under care.

Due to blogging, I have been afforded the privilege of travelling by proxy, travelling for real (BAR!!!), and having had other bloggers visit me and become good friends. It is a wonderful place, the netiverse, and I see no reason not to leave one's footprints within it. One day, far in the future, who knows how they will resonate?

To read all the adventures of Kay and the YAMster, here are the posts in the correct order.

Menotouring 1

Menotouring 2

Menotouring 3

Menotouring 4

Menotouring 5

Menotouring 6

Menotouring 7

Menotouring 8

Menotouring 9

Reflection

Bonus Piccies