Our Story
Rememery Started With A Snowglobe.
Christmas, 2021. My grandmother gave my mom a small snowglobe with a red cardinal inside it. A tag hung from the side that read, "Remember Me." My mom started crying, right there, in front of everyone.
That was the moment it hit me. We say we'll never forget the people we love. But how do we actually do that? Where do the memories go? The photos live on one phone, the videos on another, the stories only in someone's memory, until they're not.
I was a sophomore at High Point University when I started asking that question seriously, in business plans, in pitch competitions, in front of people like Marc Randolph who'd built things before and knew what a real idea looked like. The company has changed a lot since then. What hasn't changed is the reason I started it: families need somewhere to hold everything, especially when it matters most, and right now, that memory is scattered across a dozen phones and nobody's in charge of it.
Then My Grandfather Passed Away
In early 2026, my grandfather, Ronald "Pete" Labrecque, went into hospice care. For 28 days, my family showed up. Every single day. We sat with him, we talked to him, we said the things you say when you know time is short.
One afternoon, a cardinal landed on the windowsill outside his room.
Pete was the kind of grandfather who made everyone around him feel like the most important person in the room. He loved tradition. He loved his family fiercely, and he made sure you knew it. He was, and still is, the standard I measure myself against.
When he passed, I gave his eulogy. It was the greatest honor I have ever had, standing up in front of everyone who loved him and telling them that his story wasn't over, that Rememery would carry his life forward long after that day.
Building his memorial with my own company was unlike anything I'd experienced.
I had built Rememery for families going through exactly what mine was going through. I understood the mission in theory. But sitting on the other side of it, uploading his photos, gathering the stories, feeling the whole world narrow down to what needed to happen to honor him properly, that taught me things no amount of planning ever could.
Pete believed in what we built before I ever needed it for myself. There are photos of him holding Rememery signs, proud, the way he was proud of everything his family did. I like to think he knew, somehow, that this would end up being for him too.
Every family who uses Rememery is doing what my family did. Showing up. Remembering. Making sure a life is never reduced to just a name and two dates.
Cardinals appear when angels are near.
Now you know why we say it.
