A woman I’ll never forget told me about the week after she lost her mother. She found the shoebox — papers, half-filled forms, a key to a box no one could locate, passwords no one knew.
She wasn’t grieving in those first days. She was investigating. Playing detective with her own mother’s life, during the worst week of hers.
It doesn’t have to be that way. That’s the whole point of what we’re building.
👇 Have you ever been handed a “shoebox” — or are you trying to make sure you never hand one down?
Comment below.