A son, a voicemail, and a promise.
My daughter was born in 2016. My mother died in 2022. Somewhere between those two moments, I realized the people we love most will one day only exist in recordings we're terrified to accidentally erase.
I have voicemails from my mom. I've listened to every one of them a hundred times. They always end the same way:
"I love you more."
But they're static. She says the same thing every time. She can't ask me how I'm doing. She can't hear about her granddaughter's first day of school. She can't comfort me on the days I need her voice the most.
On her birthday, April 19th, 2025, I started building Eternity. The next day I filed my first patent. It was 2 pages. No claims. I had no idea what I was doing.
A year later, I filed again. 45 pages. 35 claims. Every piece of technology I've learned poured into the thing I built because I missed my mom.
Eternity isn't a product to me. It's a promise I made on her birthday. That her voice would never go silent.
— Mike Love II, Founder
