Lisa & MeEvery family we talked to had the same quiet contradiction: they loved their parent enormously, and they still couldn't shake the feeling that they weren't doing enough. Not because they weren't calling. Because calling isn't the same as knowing.
The gap isn't between visits. It's between an ordinary Tuesday and the version of that Tuesday where something actually goes wrong — a missed pill, a bad fall, a low mood that doesn't lift. Most families only find out after the fact, and usually from someone else.
We started with companionship. Nobody wants to feel watched in their own home, least of all a parent who raised you and doesn't need permission to live her own life. Lisa should offer conversation, attention and connection without taking away that independence.
Lisa Vision adds an optional window into home. A compatible spare phone can become a camera for a shared room, connected to Lisa & Me through its own room QR code. Live views, available event recordings and AI-enriched descriptions give the household more context, with camera permissions kept separate from caregiver and notification consent.
That context is useful, but it isn't certainty. Not every phone is compatible, AI descriptions can be wrong, and a disconnected camera is not evidence that someone is in danger. We're validating safety check-ins carefully; we do not promise automated fall, fire or medical-emergency detection. Explore Lisa Vision.
That's Lisa. She's chatty because company matters on its own, not just as a delivery mechanism for monitoring. She remembers because being remembered is part of feeling less alone. And she's careful about when she reaches out to family, because crying wolf breaks trust just as badly as staying silent does.
We're not trying to replace the phone call. We're trying to make the phone call something you both look forward to, instead of something you dread might be too late.