What Would My Sons Have Of Me If I Were Gone?

By Szabolcs Ujfalussy

If something happened to me tomorrow, what would my sons actually have of me?

I'm a father of two boys, and that question is why I built myAngelVault. It helps people prepare personal messages, photos, and videos for the people they love, to be delivered after they pass away. But the idea began years earlier, with the family memories I was already saving.

My older son recently started school. He's seven, and yes, I filmed it. That video joined a collection I've been building since before he was born: painting the nursery, the drive to the hospital, bringing each of our boys home for the first time.

There are ordinary days in there, too. Moments from the Covid lockdowns. Little things the boys probably won't remember, but I know I will. The sort of footage that means very little to anyone outside your family and everything to you.

I take this unofficial family archivist job seriously. I organize the files. I make backups. Somewhere along the way, though, I realized I had spent far more time thinking about how to keep those memories safe than how my sons would eventually receive them.

Would they know where to look? Would anyone understand how I'd organized everything? And even if they found it all, how much of the story would be missing?

A photograph can show them what happened. It can't always tell them why I kept it, what made me laugh, or what I was thinking while I stood behind the camera.

That's the part I wanted to give them, too.

I know the difference because of what my own grandparents left me. They left things: objects that still carry their presence, and photographs where nobody wrote names on the backs, so half the faces are now permanently strangers. I loved them, and they loved me, and I own proof that they existed. But I do not own a single sentence they meant for me to read. Everything was left behind. Nothing was left to me. The difference between the two is an address, and it turns out the address is everything.

We already understand the thinking behind life insurance. Parents arrange it because they want their family to have financial support if something happens to them. You hope it won't be needed for a very long time, and then you get on with living.

I began thinking about the personal side of that same responsibility. Alongside financial security, I wanted my boys to have something they could hear or read from me. My voice. My memories of them growing up. The things I love about them now, while they're still too young to understand why those things matter.

So I started writing. A message like this doesn't have to sound like a farewell. You can tell your children what you love about them today, what makes you proud, or why a particular memory matters to you. Write it in the present tense: love isn't past tense, and they will read it in the present tense years from now.

The idea grew from there. I wanted a place where I could put a message for each boy alongside the moments it belonged to, and keep adding to it as they grew.

That became myAngelVault.

Each person you choose has their own private vault. You can add letters, photos, videos, and voice recordings over the years. A few lines after the first day of school. The story behind a favorite picture. Something you're proud of them for, written while the feeling is still fresh. One letter is enough to start. The rest is optional.

The other part was making sure there was a way for that collection to reach them. myAngelVault uses activity signals and a series of safety checks. If your activity stops for an extended period, the service tries to reach you repeatedly over several weeks and asks a trusted person to confirm what happened. A single sign-in stops the process. Delivery happens only after all the safety steps are completed, never simply because a calendar date arrives.

My sons were the starting point, but there are other people I'd want to leave words for, too. A spouse. A close friend. Someone who made a difference and might never have realized how much.

And those words don't have to be extraordinary.

I think that's what can make this feel harder than it needs to be: imagining you have to write something profound enough to last a lifetime. You can start with a memory you both share, a thank-you, or a short recording of yourself telling a familiar story. Your own slightly imperfect words are part of what makes it yours.

I hope I'll be around to watch those school videos with my sons when they're grown. I'd love to tell them the stories myself, probably more than once, until they remind me they've heard this one already.

In the meantime, I can keep adding to what I want them to have.

If you've had the same thought about someone you love, you can explore myangelvault.com. Start with one person and one thing you'd want them to know.

About the author: Szabolcs Ujfalussy is a father of two in Hungary and the founder of myAngelVault, a digital legacy app inspired by the messages and memories he wants to preserve for his own family.