Grace runs the part of your funeral home your families see and feel — a website assistant that answers day and night, memorial pages that honor every life with real reverence, writing tools, a year of aftercare — with the calm, organized system your team runs on behind it: cases, hiring, and pre-need, all under your funeral home's name.
Grace handles the paperwork. You handle the people.
The website assistant answers only from what you've given it — your knowledge base and your published memorial pages. It won't guess a price or invent a service time. When it doesn't know, it says so and offers your phone number.
Grace drafts; your people send. Anniversary notes are drafts until a human sends them; fraud warnings wait in a review queue unless you've marked a template to send on its own. Aftercare runs only for the families you've turned it on for. The scheduled case emails — service reminders, review requests — start on so a family isn't waiting on a switch nobody flipped; each is controlled per feature from Settings, off with one tap, and labeled with exactly what it sends.
Your name, never ours. Families never see the word "Grace" — every family-facing surface speaks as your home. And your families' data is isolated per funeral home, never sold, never shared, and never used to train AI models.
It answers service questions, pricing guidance, and what-to-do-first in your voice, under your name. When a family wants a person, it captures their name and number and alerts your team. When a family needs a person, it recognizes that and treats it with urgency.
You brief it like a new receptionist — or import your website content and review every suggestion before it saves. Service times and locations come solely from memorial pages you've published; unpublish, and it stops.
A short contact form appears after the family's second message — name, phone, email. On submit, your whole team is alerted by bell and email, and the lead lands in Contacts marked hot.
It recognizes an immediate need, shifts to practical first steps, and sends an urgent alert — with the family's number as tap-to-call the moment it arrives. Tuned so a missed at-need family is worse than a false alarm.
Clear pre-planning conversations route to your pre-need pipeline, not the general lead list — and any sign of a current or imminent loss vetoes it, so a grieving family is never filed as a sales lead.
A visitor in acute distress gets warmth, the 988 Suicide & Crisis Lifeline, and your phone number — nothing else. That conversation is never treated as a lead, by design and by code.
One line of code on Squarespace, WordPress, Wix, Weebly, or any site — lockable to your own domain. The widget is available in English and Spanish, and the assistant replies in the language the family writes in.
Every website lead in one working list — auto-sorted folders (Hot Leads, Follow Up…), call logging, follow-up dates, the full conversation transcript, a first-call prep brief drawn from what the family actually said — and turning a lead into a case takes a moment.
Conversations, leads, conversion, and peak hours — including how much of it happens after your building is dark. An estimated-value card built on your own average arrangement value, and a matching Excel export for any period.
Overnight, Grace summarizes each conversation and lists every question your assistant couldn't answer. Add the answer — or draft it with AI and edit — and the assistant knows it from then on.
One case per family — details, files, a stage board, and a task checklist seeded from your home's own editable template. If a pre-need plan matches the name at creation, Grace asks and carries the plan's details in — reviewed by you, never silently.
Welcome notes, arrangement confirmations, cremation and death-certificate updates — each generated as a draft, edited by you, and sent under your home's name. Service reminders and review requests send themselves on schedule — send your own version first and the scheduled one stands down, or switch either off in Settings. One switch — "Do not contact this family" — stops every message, everywhere.
Staff write with AI help — or send the family a private link: a gentle form — or, for obituaries, a guided interview that sorts their own words into the draft. The AI composes only from what it's given; it never invents survivors, dates, or details. Family drafts autosave and are never lost to an expired link.
A dignified public tribute — the portrait framed with care at every size (your team can fine-tune the framing in seconds), the dates and services, photos, an optional donation link, and their story drafted from what the family actually shared. Published and unpublished with one click, branded to your home. Publishing is also what lets your website assistant answer that family's service questions.
The same reverence extends to beloved companions: a pet memorial isn't a human page with the words changed — the intake asks for a companion's name and their person, the tribute ("Their Story") is written for pet loss, and the aftercare notes that follow honor a grief that's real.
Family letters and thank-yous, publication-ready death notices in three formats, service-planning checklists, a what-happens-next family guide, grief resources by relationship and age, and a free-form AI assistant for your staff's questions.
A secure, expiring link the family completes from home, at their own pace, instead of being quizzed at the arrangement conference. It asks only for what the case is missing and can never overwrite what's already on file.
Six optional milestones, from three days to the one-year anniversary — activated per family, each message previewable and editable before it sends, pausable any time. First-anniversary notes are drafted for your review in Family Moments; your click is the send.
Proactive scam warnings for bereaved families — utility-bill fraud, fake debt collection, sympathy scams — timed to the weeks they're most targeted and written in your director's voice. Each waits for your approval, message by message — unless you've chosen to pre-approve a template, and even those sit in your queue, editable until they send.
Also in the day-to-day: paste any Google review and Grace drafts a response in your voice — you post it yourself, Grace never touches your Google account. And a read-only archive of every document Grace has generated.
Your price lists, procedures, and policies — loaded once, answerable forever. Staff ask a question and get the answer from your documents only, with the source named; if it isn't there, Grace says so instead of guessing. Completely separate from the family-facing assistant — families never see any of it.
A new hire's first week, built from your own documents. Grace proposes the path, you review and approve it, and the hire studies the real thing — your procedures, word for word — with a place to ask questions at every step.
A simple pipeline for families planning ahead. Website prospects arrive automatically with what they shared assembled for your review — nothing saved to their record until you save it — plus a plan generator with ready-to-send follow-ups, and analytics with a privacy-floored read on what pre-planning families ask.
Two read-only reports for the questions owners actually ask — where the families came from, and how the work is trending.
Every case can record where it came from — the hospice, the church, the senior community, the elder-law attorney. The report turns those records into the number that matters: which relationships sent you families this year, and how many. Counted in cases, never dollars — and honest about its gaps: cases with no recorded source are shown in the chart, not hidden under it.
Your caseload, over any period: monthly volume, the cremation-and-burial mix and how it's shifting, where every case sits in the pipeline, and how much of the work began as a pre-need plan. Exportable to Excel. Read-only by design — it counts your cases and never touches them.
Hosted by Grace, branded to your home, embeddable on your own website with one line. Postings appear and disappear automatically as you open and fill roles — when a job is filled, its posting comes down on its own, so your page never advertises a role that's gone. Candidates can apply with a résumé, a structured form, or a few typed sentences; no one is turned away for lacking a résumé.
Applied to hired, with team notes, logged emails from your own templates, interview scheduling with calendar invites, structured scorecards, and offer letters you fill, review, and edit. Grace can read a dropped résumé and summarize it — advisory only; a person at your home makes every hiring decision, and nothing is ever filtered or ranked by a score.
A job-ad creator that produces four versions at once and screens for legally risky wording, an ad grader for anything you've already written, printable interview guides with can-and-cannot-ask references, school outreach, and a hiring report that deliberately contains no demographic data.
Everyone at your home gets their own login — no per-user fees. Directors manage the team and settings; staff do everything else. Cases, leads, and notes are shared; contributions stay attributed to the person who made them.
A completely private space for each person — a one-tap daily check-in, the ProQOL professional quality-of-life assessment, a quiet follow-up after the hardest cases, and real resources. Private means private: invisible even to the home's owner. Directors see only team aggregates, and only above a privacy floor.
A private network of funeral professionals across Grace homes — questions, shared wins, an anonymous wellbeing circle — plus a staff network for connecting with other homes on shifts and staffing.
This is Grace as it works today — built for independent funeral homes, and growing with them.
We'd rather show you than sell you. The best way to understand Grace is twenty minutes in front of it.