I'm a product designer, and I make In Case Anything Happens — a printed planner that organizes everything your family would need if something happened to you: accounts, passwords, documents, and wishes, in one guided book.
I built it after an uncomfortable realization about my own life: I'm the one who handles everything digital in my family, and if anything happened to me, the people I love would be locked out of nearly all of it — the phone, the accounts, the photos, the bills. Building the planner meant months of researching how account access, document storage, and after-death logistics actually work. These guides are where that research goes.
I'm a maker who has spent a long time on one narrow problem: how a family gets access to what they need, when they need it. I am not a lawyer, financial advisor, or medical professional, and nothing I write is legal, financial, or medical advice. When a topic touches law or money, I cite official sources — Social Security, the IRS, the FTC, the National Institute on Aging, Apple's and Google's own documentation — and I tell you plainly when a question is one for a professional in your state.
Every guide follows the same rules: facts come from primary sources that are linked so you can check them; anything I sell is disclosed in place, with honest alternatives listed next to it (including cheaper ones); and no scare tactics — this subject is heavy enough without them.