Write the letters. Share the passwords. Record the things you've always meant to say. RSVP keeps them sealed and safe — and delivers them to the right people only if a day comes when you can't.
Free to begin when we launch. Encrypted before it ever leaves your hands.
No legal forms, no appointments, no urgency. Set it up in an afternoon and then mostly forget it exists.
Letters to the people you love. The passwords and account access your family would otherwise spend months fighting for. Instructions, wishes, stories. Everything is encrypted on your device before we ever see it — we couldn't read it if we tried.
Every so often, we send a gentle note: still with us? One tap says yes. That's the whole job. Miss one and nothing happens — we follow up by email, by text, and through people you trust before anything moves.
If the day comes when you truly can't reply, your messages go exactly where you intended — to the right people, with the right contents, without anything standing in between.
Why "RSVP"? It's the little request printed on every invitation you've ever received: respond, please. That's all the check-in is — a small invitation, and your reply. As long as you keep answering, everything stays sealed. It's the politest promise we could think of.
A will is a legal instrument — it moves property, slowly, in someone else's language. These are the things that actually keep a family running, and the words that hold it together.
Not legal language read aloud by a stranger — your words, the way you'd actually say them. To your spouse, your kids, your oldest friend. The things that deserve more than a paragraph in a document.
For the people who'll want to hear from youBanking logins, email, phone PINs, photo libraries, subscriptions. Families spend months locked out of accounts that a single encrypted note would have opened in minutes.
For whoever has to handle the practical thingsWhere the documents are. Who to call first. How you want things handled. The quiet logistics that spare your family a hundred impossible guesses on their hardest week.
For the moment when no one knows what to doA note for a graduation. A letter for a wedding day. Words that wait years for their moment, then arrive right on time — long after they were written.
For the milestones you don't want to missYour will distributes your estate. RSVP delivers everything else.
Nobody has to be sold on this. The moment people hear what it is, they start writing theirs in their head. A few that come up again and again:
A service like this earns trust by being honest about what could go wrong — and engineering against it. There are exactly two unforgivable failures, and the entire system is designed around preventing both.
One missed check-in triggers nothing. You get a grace period, then reminders across email and text, then — if you choose — a trusted contact is asked to confirm before a single message moves. A vacation, a hospital stay, a lost phone: none of these will ever send your letters.
Delivery is the one job. Your messages live on monitored, redundant infrastructure with delivery verification at every step — because a promise that fires too late, or not at all, is no promise.
Your messages are encrypted on your device before upload. We store ciphertext we cannot open. No employee, no breach, no subpoena can read a letter that only its recipient can unlock.
Edit a letter, change a recipient, delete everything — any time, instantly. Nothing is final while you're here. That's rather the point.
We hope every message we hold waits forever. Our job is simply to make sure that if it can't, it keeps its appointment.
We're putting the final care into something built to be trusted with the things that matter most. Leave your email and we'll write to you the day it opens — nothing before, nothing else.