A warm phone call at the same time each day. How did you sleep, what's today. And then: tell me about the farm. By the third week it's asking about her sister's visit by name. You get a note after every call, in her words. At the end of the year, her stories are a book.
Most check-in services ring, ask if she's okay, and hang up. This one asks what happened next. Every call is briefed on everything she's told it before - who Carol is, that the wind keeps her up out there, the story about Rock Springs she didn't finish - so the talk goes somewhere. It's company that pays attention.
"We got there in March and it was still snowing sideways. I cried the first night. But the neighbor lady brought over a pot of beans the second day, and that was that. We stayed forty years."
A few sentences after each call: how she said she is, what she talked about, anything she asked to pass along. Not how she seemed - what she said. If she doesn't pick up, it tries twice more and then tells you, plainly.
If she tells the caller she's hurt or frightened, it tells her to call you or 911 - and texts you that minute.
Her stories go into it as she tells them - first person, her phrasings, her digressions, stitched only enough to read on a page. You can read it any time. At the end of the year, we print it: a real hardback for the shelf, and for whoever comes after.
It's the proof that somebody didn't just check on her. Somebody got to know her.
Her name, what she likes to be called, her number, the time of morning that suits her. A few things to start with: where she grew up, who she married, what she loves to talk about.
The caller introduces itself - plainly, as an AI you set up - and asks whether she'd like these calls. If she says no, that's the end of it, and you're not charged.
Ten or twenty minutes. It checks in, then gets her talking, and it remembers. One question at a time, a little slower, and it never keeps her on the line.
You get a text after every call. Her stories collect in her book. You can add things to ask her about, change the time, or pause it - from one page, no app.
Nobody tells the story of the year he drove trucks out of Casper unless somebody asks, and keeps asking. The caller can go by any name you like, and it learns how he likes to be talked to - which for some men is "get to the point," and that's fine.
A daily call, the notes, and her book
The first two weeks are free, and she has to say yes first. Cancel any time; the book is hers either way.
Card on file, nothing charged for 14 days. If she says no on the first call, we cancel it for you.
No. It says so on every call. It's an AI, made to listen well and remember. It never pretends otherwise.
If she tells the caller she's hurt or frightened, it tells her to call 911 or you, and texts you that minute. It cannot detect a fall and never calls 911 itself. This is company, not safety equipment - if you need that, get a medical alert pendant as well.
The transcript stays with us so the caller can remember. You get the note and her stories. We don't sell anything to anyone and we don't share anything.
Then it hears it every day, the way a good friend would, and keeps the version with the most in it.
Then it stops, after one call, and you're not charged. She's asked directly, and her answer is the whole answer.
It speaks a little slower, repeats once plainly, and doesn't shout. If she can't hear it at all, it says it'll try tomorrow and lets her go - and tells you.