In development · early access opening soon
The stories go first.
Then the voice. Then the way they'd answer.
MemoBeads is a private vault you fill a few minutes at a time — a memory, a photo, a voice note, a thing you believe. While you are here it remembers for you. After you are gone, the people you named can still ask it, and it answers only in what you actually said.
If you never said it, your vault will not answer it. No guessing, no filling in the gaps.
Every account gets its own sealed vault with its own keys. Not a shared pool.
Download everything you put in, any time, from a button in your settings.
We publish exactly how long we keep things — instead of promising forever and quietly folding.
The problem
Nobody loses a person all at once.
You lose the small things first. How they pronounced a place name. Why they left that job. What they'd have said about the thing you're deciding right now.
Families notice it too late — usually somewhere between a funeral and a box of photographs nobody can caption. The recordings that exist are of birthdays and weddings, not of anyone explaining themselves. What is missing is never the footage. It is the reasoning.
And for the living
Most of a life is never written down anywhere.
Not because it isn't worth writing down, but because "write your memoir" is a project, and nobody has a project-shaped hour spare.
MemoBeads asks for ninety seconds. It asks you today, and again next week, about something it noticed you have never covered — and it keeps what you say.
The unit
Everything you add is a Bead.
A Bead is one small, finished thing: a memory, a photo with a story attached, a voice note, an opinion, a hope. Not a document. Not a project. One thought, captured properly, then set down.
Memory Beads
What happened, and what you made of it. The house you grew up in. Why you and your brother stopped speaking for six years, and what fixed it.
Aspiration Beads
What you are still hoping for. Younger people have more of these than memories — and a vault that only faces backwards has nothing to say to a twenty-five-year-old.
Your MBVault
Where they all live — a space where your Beads drift, and touching one opens it. The same space your family sees later. Nothing is rearranged after you're gone.
Memory Aspiration
How it works
Four things happen. That's the whole product.
Something prompts you
An anniversary comes round. A photo surfaces. Your vault notices it has thirty years of your working life and nothing at all about your father. It asks — once, gently, and never again if you say no.
You answer in ninety seconds
Type it, speak it, or add a photo and say what it was. Voice is transcribed so it stays searchable — and stays in your actual voice, which matters more than anyone expects.
You can ask your own vault anything
"What did I say about moving to Chiang Mai?" "Have I ever written anything down for Mia?" It answers from your Beads, cites which ones, and tells you plainly when it doesn't know.
Later, the people you named can ask too
You choose them while you are alive — up to two by default, more if you want. They don't get your password. They get a separate account, with access only to what you allowed them to reach.
The line we will not cross
Your vault will never pretend to be you.
There is a version of this product that guesses. Someone asks a grieving daughter's question, the model has no answer, and it produces something plausible in her mother's cadence. It would be more comforting. It would also be a fabrication, delivered to someone who has no way to check it.
MemoBeads does not do that, at any price, on any tier. Answers are assembled from what you actually recorded, and every answer can be traced back to the Beads it came from. Where there is nothing, it says there is nothing.
"Your mother never spoke about this" is a real answer. Sometimes it is the true one, and it belongs to her as much as anything she did say.
After
What happens when someone dies is designed, not improvised.
A death is verified by a person, not a script. The vault moves into Legacy: nothing new can be added, everything already there stays exactly as it was, and the people you named can begin asking.
Beads you marked private stay private permanently. Your beneficiary list locks. The first Legacy year is on us, for every paid plan — because the first year after a death is not a moment to hand a family an invoice.
MBHub — for a whole family
Two to ten people, each with their own sealed vault. Nobody can see inside anyone else's, including whoever pays. When someone dies their seat becomes a Legacy seat and stays permanently — so a death never raises the family's price.
Give it to someone
MemoBeads can be bought as a gift. The recipient sets it up and owns the account outright — the buyer never gets access to the vault. It is a common way in: a grown child buying it for a parent.
Plans
Four plans. One free.
A capable AI is included from $4.99 — you don't bring your own subscription and you don't pay per question.
Freemium
To see whether this is for you at all.
Always
- 50 Beads, one time
- Text and photos
- No beneficiaries
Lite
A steady trickle, and a promise kept.
or $49.99 a year
- 100 Beads a year, rolling over
- Voice notes up to 30s
- 1 beneficiary · full Legacy
Standard
Unlimited Beads and a real daily assistant.
or $149.99 a year
- Unlimited Beads
- Voice up to 2 minutes · 250 GB
- Email, calendar & contacts
- MBHighlights · AI Assistant
Premium
Video, and the fullest version of everything.
or $249.99 a year
- Everything in Standard
- Video Beads · 500 GB
- Voice up to 4 minutes
- Largest AI allowance
Families of 2–10 save 10–20% with an MBHub. Every plan is monthly or annual, and you can leave whenever you like.
Early access
The best time to start was thirty years ago.
MemoBeads is being built now. Join the waitlist and we will write to you once — when there is something real to open.