When my father died, I gave his computer to Goodwill after keeping it in an honored place on the floor of my office where I would look at it and think about whether giving it to him had made anything easier about the year and a half he spent grieving my mother’s death before he died, and wish, but not, that I knew the password that would let me search his brief online life to find evidence of relief, some track of his sadness lessening, but in the end I had to give up and let the question be erased.


Written in response to The Daily Post prompt: Your life without a computer: what does it look like?