The 12-Hour Memorial Video: Why I'll Never Build One From Scratch Again
- Team Celebrife

- Dec 3
- 3 min read
Eight years ago, when my grandmother passed away, I volunteered to create her memorial video. I knew PowerPoint. I was the "tech person" in the family. I figured… how hard could it be?

Twelve hours later, eyes bleary, I finally exported the final version.
And it was beautiful. Family members cried. People asked for copies. The exhaustion felt worth it.
So when my stepfather passed away recently, I thought: "I've done this. This time will be faster."
I was wrong.
I Thought Experience Would Make It Easier. It Didn't.
What I didn't account for: We have more photos than ever before.
For my grandmother, we gathered maybe 60 images—scanned prints, emailed photos, one shared album. This time? Over 300 "must-have" photos scattered across texts, emails, iCloud, Google Photos, Facebook, and three different phones. I had to cut it down to 110, still a lot of photos.
I thought my experience would save me time. Instead, I faced the same tedious work—just multiplied by digital clutter and more pressure to "get it right."
That's when it hit me: We have better tools for almost everything in life… except this.
Creating a personalized memorial video in 2024 required the same manual process as it did in 2016.
Where the Time Actually Goes
If you've ever created a tribute video—or are about to—you'll recognize this timeline.
Hours 1–3: Scattered Photo Hunt & Gathering
Texting family members: "Did you send the photos from Dad's 60th?"
Downloading email attachments
Saving low-resolution Facebook images
Untangling pictures from half a dozen sources
Just collecting and consolidating photos took three hours—all while juggling funeral plans, phone calls, and grief.
Imagine if there were one simple link where family could upload photos, with automatic thankyou's sent to each contributor. (More on that later.)
Hours 4–6: The Chronological Puzzle - lifetime photo sort
A memorial video tells a life story. Order matters.
But timestamps lie:
Scanned photos from the 1970s mixed with iPhone pics from 2022
Missing dates entirely
Photos you've never seen, forcing you to guess the decade
I spent four hours sorting, dragging, and rearranging—assembling a visual timeline of a life well-lived.
It wasn't difficult. It was just draining during an already emotional week.
Hours 7–10: The Mechanical Tedium - Slide Buildout
Now the "real work":
Converting Apple HEIC files to JPEG
Importing each photo
Resizing, centering, adding borders
Checking alignment
Matching style across 80+ slides
Even working fast, that's 2-4 minutes per slide. Hours gone.
Wouldn't it be helpful to have a library of tasteful, ready-made memorial backgrounds? You shouldn't reinvent the wheel—just select the best one from a proven menu.
Hour 10-12+: Video Creation, Relearning the Software… Again
Transition timing
Music syncing and crossfades
Export settings
Rewatching, adjusting, re-exporting
All while thinking: "Didn't I learn this eight years ago?"
By the end, I had a video I was proud of—but at the cost of exhaustion and hours I wish I'd spent the time with family instead of fighting software.
The Question That Changed Everything
Why is this still so hard?
I don't use paper maps anymore. I don't balance my checkbook by hand. I don't search the Yellow Pages.
But creating a memorial video—something families desperately need during one of the hardest weeks of their lives—still required the same manual steps as a decade ago.

The truth is, the technology exists to make this easier:
Face recognition
Age estimation
Automatic formatting
AI-powered video assembly




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