It started with a conversation at home
Helping people is at the heart of everything we do. But one ordinary evening, Kev and I were chatting and I said something half-joking, half-serious: I'd be lost without you.
And the truth is, I would. I'm a complete technophobe. If something happened to Kev tomorrow, I wouldn't know how to access his computer. I wouldn't know where to start running our business. I don't know his passwords.
Then he casually mentioned something about doing something with his shares. Shares? What shares? Apparently there were pensions too. Accounts. Things I had absolutely no idea about.
Then the conversation drifted somewhere else entirely. I told him: if anything ever happens to me, promise me you'll play Take That's Relight My Fire at my funeral. I love Take That and it'll make people smile.
And in that moment, something clicked. All these little conversations people have: the practical things, the important things, even the small personal wishes. They are scattered everywhere. In people's heads. In random documents. In emails. In drawers. Or sometimes nowhere at all.
And if the worst ever did happen, the people you love are left trying to piece everything together while they're already dealing with the hardest time of their lives.
That's when the idea for Afterlife was born.
Kev's background is in software design, so we knew if we did this, it had to be done properly. Secure. Thoughtful. Designed with care. And most importantly, it needed to feel human.
Afterlife is about peace of mind. It's about knowing that everything important is safely recorded, just in case. And it's about helping the people we love when they might need it most.