Beti calls your mom or dad on their regular phone — no app, no gadgets. A patient, caring voice that remembers everything: the garden, the grandkids, the stories. You get gentle updates. They get real company.
On the schedule you choose, in English or warm Latin-American Spanish. It listens more than it talks, asks about their day, and gently follows up on last time — the doctor's visit, the lemon tree, the neighbor's news.
A short, warm note — not a report. How they've seemed, little joys, and anything worth a look: missed calls, health mentions, or someone asking them for money. Signals, never transcripts.
Woven into every call is a little history: first jobs, first loves, the old neighborhood. Every story is saved in their own words and voice — a family heirloom that grows every week.
Recordings and transcripts of your parent telling their life, in their own voice — collected gently, one call at a time, and exported as a keepsake your family keeps forever.
"It was raining, and he only had one umbrella. Your grandmother always said it was luck — it wasn't. I saw him waiting on that corner every day for a week…"
Your parent knows exactly what Beti is and agreed to it on the very first call. You see signals, never transcripts — their private words stay private.
Gift cards, wire transfers, "grandchild in trouble" calls, online romances asking for money — Beti warns gently in the moment and lets you know calmly.
Beti tries again, and again — and if your parent still can't be reached, you get a text right away. The check-in you'd do yourself, every single day.