For families
Everything your family is, and everything it will have to deal with.
One private place — not a group chat someone else owns, not a shared drive nobody can find, not a folder of scans on a laptop that will eventually fail.
Preserve the past
And hold the present while it is still happening.
Most of this half is not about history. It is about a family having somewhere to be a family — and the record builds itself out of that, which is the only reason it ever actually gets built.
A private network with exactly one membership list.
Your people, invited by you, in circles you control. No strangers, no feed, no algorithm deciding who sees your daughter's birthday. The only members are your family.
The calendar the whole family actually reads.
Birthdays, anniversaries, the dates that matter and the ones that hurt. Carried year to year, so nobody has to be the person who remembers everything.
Coordination without the group chat.
The gift exchange and who drew whom. Who is hosting, who is bringing what, who has not replied. The reunion and the road trip that otherwise take four weeks of texting to settle.
Chores that prove themselves.
Done is a photo, not an argument. The kid shows the mowed lawn through AI Vision, and the allowance posts to a ledger with their own name on it, a share of it straight to savings.
See them, right now.
When a check-in isn't enough, ask to see. One tap sends an AI Vision link; they open it and you see what they see. Nothing to install on either end, and nothing kept that you didn't ask to keep.
The box in the closet stops being a box in the closet.
Photographs, film, voice notes, letters and scans — dated and attached to the people in them. Name a face once at twenty and she is named at sixty, in every picture she appears in.
Point a phone at the shoebox.
AI Vision opens a camera from a text message, with no app to install. Hold up a photograph, the back of a recipe card, a letter in a hand nobody else has: it lands in the archive, dated and filed, and asks who is in it.
Their news, kept.
When someone in the family is in the paper, a promotion, a wedding, a record, an obituary, fAImily finds it and asks you whether it's really them. Nothing goes on anyone's page until a person says yes.
The pie still gets made.
In her handwriting, in her measurements, with the note about the oven running hot. Written down once, while there is still someone to ask.
The ring goes to the right person, and they know why.
Every object that matters, photographed, with its story and the name of the hand it goes to next. The conversation that otherwise happens too late, or never.
Protect the future
The plan, the money, and the week it all gets used.
This is the half nobody wants to open. It is also the half that decides whether a family comes out of the next ten years intact, so it is built to be openable on an ordinary Tuesday.
Nobody has to guess what you wanted.
Wills, powers of attorney, healthcare directives, guardianship — what exists, where the paper physically is, who prepared it, when it was last reviewed. Plus the tender specifics a will has no room for.
One list of everything the family owns.
Accounts, property, vehicles, policies. What it is, where it is held, roughly what it is worth, how to get at it — and a named person against each one.
The documents themselves, not just where they are.
Birth and marriage certificates, deeds, titles, the passport you renew every ten years. Encrypted, access-logged, and findable by someone who has never seen your filing cabinet. Wills, living wills and directives can already be attached to the estate record, encrypted.
Savings that fund themselves.
A 529 for each child, a trust, the retirement book — held beside the plan they exist for, so the account and the intention are never in two different places.
Be at the wedding you will not be at.
Write it now. Choose the day it opens — an eighteenth birthday, a graduation, the morning after you are gone. It waits as long as it has to.
Your advisor, in the same place as your family.
If your family works with a firm, they can hold this with you — the same record, the parts you choose to share, no forwarded statements and no annual data-gathering questionnaire.
And then the part nobody plans for
Estate planning is the easy half. Estate transition is what breaks people.
In the first two weeks somebody has to find a death certificate, and then order eleven more. Notify the bank, the pension, the insurer, the registrar. Work out who has the passwords. Decide about the house. Pay a funeral home before a single account has been released. Nobody told them this was coming, and it arrives in the worst month of their lives.
That is where families come apart — not over the loss, over the administration. Two siblings stop speaking over a chair. Somebody is quietly certain somebody else took something. It is almost never greed. It is exhaustion, and an absence of anything written down.
fAImily holds a transition plan beside the estate record: what has to happen, in what order, who is doing it, with the documents already attached and the intentions already in the person's own words. Not to make it painless. To make it survivable, and to take the arguing out of it.
The fAImily organizer
Somebody whose whole job is keeping it current.
A record like this is only worth what it is worth on the day somebody needs it, and families are bad at maintenance — not from carelessness, but because nobody owns it. The organizer owns it.
- It finds things. Ask in plain words — when were we all last in the same room, who is in the photographs from the lake, which accounts have nobody named on them — and it searches every part of the record at once.
- It does the filing. Point it at a folder, a mailbox, or a box of scans. It dates them, reads what it can, files them, and asks who is in them while there is still someone to ask.
- It runs the calendar. Birthdays, the gift exchange, who is hosting, who has not replied. And when the family plans a trip together it hands off to vacAItion rather than pretending to be a travel agent.
- It keeps the plan honest. It notices the will has not been opened since the second child was born, and the policy with nobody named on it.
What it will not do
An assistant inside a family's private life has to have edges. These are ours, and the product is built to stop short of them rather than ask forgiveness.
- It never speaks as a person. Not as you, not as a member of your family, and never as someone who has died. fAImily does hold profiles of those who came before, built only from what the family itself contributed — that is a separate, always-labelled part of the product, and it is never mixed into the organizer's voice.
- It never moves money. It can show you that a beneficiary is missing. It cannot open, fund or change an account.
- It never files to the estate record on its own. It drafts, and it asks. A person confirms.
- It never reaches outside the circle. It does not email your relatives, post anything, or share a single item with anyone you had not already shared it with.
Try it
Talk to Pop.
Harold “Pop” Hartwell is fictional — part of a sample family we built so you can try the heritage voice. He speaks only from what his family wrote down about him, and when the record runs out he tells you who is still here to ask.
Ask him about his son-in-law. Ask him how he met his wife. Ask him whether he's real.
See everything his family connected to him →
Say hello to Pop. Ask about a memory, a kitchen, an opinion, a song.
Owned, not taken
Your record is yours — including what it's worth.
Nothing here is sold, brokered, or handed to anyone outside the circle you put it in. No household record trains anything today. If that ever changes it is a switch you hold, and it comes with ownership rather than a checkbox — ImaginAItion is member-owned, so what the model earns flows back to the people who power it.
Your record also exports whole, any time, in a format that opens without us. Nothing here works by making it hard to leave.
Start with one photograph and one account.
Put in the thing you would most hate for someone to have to go looking for.
Open your family