The Conversation We Avoid

As an only child who lost my dad young, I grew up knowing how fragile time can be—and yet, I still found it hard to talk about what might happen "one day" with my mum.

Whenever she gently tried to tell me what she'd like for her funeral, who to contact, or where important things were kept, I would change the subject. I'd reassure her there was "plenty of time yet". But time marches on. I built a life with my wife and children, and my days filled up with the usual worries and distractions, while my mum's reminders kept quietly coming.

The Moment of Clarity

One day, the thought finally landed with a jolt: if something happened to my mum, I wouldn't really know what she wanted or where the key documents were. Despite all the times she'd tried to tell me, I was still guessing. The idea of being left panicking or worrying I'd get things wrong scared me more than the conversation itself.

I spoke to an older friend about it. He told me about "the black bag" his mum had kept—a battered old briefcase filled with birth certificates, insurance policies, bank books, and photos. It was the family's oracle. It proved invaluable when she died, helping them handle the admin in the middle of their grief.

From "Black Bag" to Know When I Go

The black bag story was my turning point. It showed how powerful it is when everything is gathered in one trusted place—but it also showed me how vulnerable a single physical object can be.

I realized there was a gap for families like mine. There were will-writing sites and complex spreadsheets, but nothing for someone whose online experience might not extend much beyond watching box sets. I wanted something straightforward: a place where her wishes and the important details of everyday life could live together safely.

What Know When I Go Does

We provide a secure space to hold the "big" things:

• Legal documents and insurance policies.
• Key contacts and funeral instructions.
• Financial accounts and passwords.

But we also hold the small, deeply human details: the location of the spare key, the neighbor's phone number, or even the secret family recipe everyone asks for.

An Act of Care

Creating Know When I Go has become a mission to preserve the everyday, domestic, and often overlooked parts of a life. It turns a difficult conversation into something gentler: a way of saying, "I've thought about you, and I don't want you to have to carry this alone."

With warmth,

Iain Kerr

Founder, Know When I Go