AIGriefBot turns the memories, photos, stories, and voice of a person into an AI companion you can talk with. There are two ways to use it: Memorial — rebuilding someone you've lost, from your own memories, for the days you want one more conversation — and Legacy — preserving a person while their stories can still be gathered, so children, grandchildren, and generations who never met them can one day sit down and truly get to know them.

No — and we will never pretend otherwise. A companion is an AI recreation built from the memories, stories, and recordings you provide. It speaks in their voice and draws on their real stories, but it is not the person, not a way to contact them, and it will honestly say so if you ask it. We built it this way on purpose: comfort that begins with a lie isn't comfort. What it can be is remarkable on its own terms — their stories, their sayings, their way of talking, kept alive and answerable.

Direction in time. Memorial looks backward: you've lost someone, you rebuild them from what you remember, and the companion is there for you — comfort, familiarity, the things you didn't get to say. Legacy looks forward: the person (or their family, or both together) builds the companion while the stories can still be collected — ideally in the person's own words and voice — as an heirloom for people who haven't been born yet. A legacy companion doesn't console; it tells stories, introducing itself to family members who never got the chance to hear them firsthand.

Instead of staring at blank boxes trying to summon a whole life, we ask — one question at a time, like a conversation. Fifty-plus questions across thirteen chapters: childhood, family, work, beliefs, favorite things, the places they lived, the times they lived through, food, the people who mattered, hard-won lessons, the famous family stories, and direct messages to future generations. When an answer opens a door, the interviewer follows the thread — "and who else was there that day?" — and when a question isn't welcome, you set it aside and it waits patiently for another time. Answer three questions or all fifty-three; the companion grows richer with every one, at whatever pace feels right.

Remember ($19/mo) is for staying close in words — unlimited-feeling conversation, photos, and a growing memories journal. Most people start here. Voice ($49/mo) is for the days you need to hear them: upload a recording (a voicemail, a home video) and every reply can be spoken aloud in their voice. Presence ($149/mo) is for seeing them — video conversations and photos brought to life, built from their pictures and voice. Each plan includes everything below it, and you can move between plans any time.

Because it's a different kind of purchase. The monthly plans are for your ongoing conversations. The Legacy Package ($299 one-time) is an heirloom: the complete guided interview across every chapter of a life, their photo archive, their voice recorded in their own words, and the finished companion — kept safe in a vault and released to the family you choose. Like a portrait session or a memoir, you pay once to create it; the small yearly vault fee ($49, first year included) keeps it stored, maintained, and talkable for the decades it's meant to last. It's also giftable — "we recorded Grandpa for his 75th" is exactly the kind of purchase this was designed for. Building a legacy requires the Legacy Package, which unlocks it on your account; during early access, purchase is by arrangement while billing is finished, and early builders keep founding pricing.

Yes — 10 free messages, no card required, so you can build a companion and meet them before deciding anything.

Cancel any time from your account page — you keep access through the period you paid for, no fees, no retention games. And if AIGriefBot isn't right for you, email us within 14 days of your first payment for a full refund, no questions asked. Grief is not the place for hard-sell subscription tactics. Full policy here.

You upload one to three minutes of clear audio of the person speaking — a voicemail, the audio from a home video, a recorded call. We create a private synthetic voice from it, and from then on the companion's replies can be played aloud in their voice. For a Legacy built by the person themselves, they simply record their own voice — the cleanest version of this there is. Every voice requires a signed attestation that you have the right to use the recording, and a companion's voice is deleted — including at our voice provider — the moment you delete the companion.

Video presence: conversations where you see them — an animated likeness built from their photos, speaking in their voice — plus photos brought to life as short moving moments. It requires at least one clear front-facing photo and the voice set up. It's the most technically ambitious tier and the one we gate most carefully; monthly allowances apply (about 30 minutes of video presence).

You, and only you. Companions are private to your account. Your conversations are used for exactly one thing — generating the replies you asked for — never for advertising, profiling, or training AI models. Family sharing for Legacy companions (releasing one to chosen relatives) is coming as part of the Legacy Package. Full privacy policy here.

Everything goes, permanently: the conversations, the uploaded photos and recordings, the saved memories, and the synthetic voice — which we also delete at our voice provider so it can never be used again. Deleting your account does the same for everything in it and cancels any billing. We built deletion to actually mean deletion.

We think about this constantly, and the honest answer is: it depends on how it's used, and we've designed for the healthy version. A companion here will never claim to be the person, never guilt you for visiting less, never send "they miss you" notifications, and never position itself between you and the people still around you. For many, revisiting stories and saying unsaid things is a genuine part of grieving — like visiting a grave or rereading old letters. But this is not therapy and doesn't replace it. If grief feels heavier than you can carry, a grief counselor or support group is the right next step, and our support page can help you find one. If you're in crisis, call or text 988 (US) any time.

For a Legacy of a living person: yes — you attest they know about and consent to it, and the best legacies are built with them. For your own legacy: your consent is the whole point, given directly. For a Memorial of someone who has passed: you attest that you had a genuine personal relationship with them and the right to memorialize them — and every companion, in every mode, is barred from being used to impersonate anyone to third parties. Full terms here.

It keeps their stories exactly as they told them. As part of the Legacy Package, you designate recipients — the family members the legacy is for — and choose whether they can meet the companion now or when the time comes. During early access this release mechanism is being finished; every legacy built today will have it, and nothing recorded is ever lost in the meantime.