Our Story
"Mom, did you take your pills today?"
I ask this question over the phone every day. Sometimes twice. Sometimes three times. And yet, I never know for sure.
The Beginning I Didn't Want to See
At first, I didn't want to admit it to myself. I refused to believe my mother was sick.
The onset was subtle. Small things. Things you explain away.
Why does she keep asking when I'm coming to visit? We talked about it yesterday. And the day before. Why can't she remember something so simple?
Why is she searching through her purse for the sixth time in an hour, pulling everything out, looking for her wallet that's been in the same pocket for years?
I was full of anger. I was full of denial. I was full of frustration I'm ashamed to admit now.
I didn't understand. I didn't want to understand. I just wanted my mom back. The one who remembered. The one who didn't need me to repeat the same thing over and over.
Looking back, I realize the anger wasn't at her. It was at the disease. At the unfairness. At the slow, quiet way it was taking her from me.
The Beginning I Didn't Understand
My mother is 59 years old. She was diagnosed with Alzheimer's disease at a moderate stage. She's still independent. A fighter who refuses to give up. She wakes up every morning determined to live her life on her own terms.
And I'm incredibly proud of her.
But I live 180 kilometers away. I have a small child who needs my attention, my love, my presence. I have a job, responsibilities, a life I'm building. And between all of that and trying to check on my mom from that distance...
I feel torn apart.
Messages sit unread for hours or days. Sometimes she has trouble with the app itself. Other times she simply forgets to check. Video calls are confusing. She forgets what we just discussed, or can't figure out how to answer.
💡 That's why AlwaysWith includes: Call replay feature so your loved one can revisit conversations whenever they need to remember what was discussed.
I've tried smart home devices, but they're too complicated. I've tried reminder apps, but she can't navigate them. Nothing worked for her specific needs.
And every single night, I fall asleep with the same questions:
- • Is she okay?
- • Did she take her medication?
- • Did she eat today?
- • Is she drinking enough water?
The Breaking Point
The moment I knew I had to build something came on an ordinary Tuesday afternoon.
I couldn't reach mom. Her phone was completely silent. The panic ended when my brother's ex-wife texted me: mom was at her workplace because she lost her keys and couldn't get home. But that wasn't all. Mom had also gone to the phone carrier and swapped her SIM card. For a reason she couldn't explain. She didn't remember doing it. And suddenly, she was completely unreachable.
Thanks to my brother's ex-wife, this is all a bit easier. She tries to help within her possibilities. My brother was the one who hurt mom his whole life. Always needed help, money. But when she needs help, he's nowhere to be found.
I was 180 kilometers away. Helpless. Terrified. Unable to even call her.
In that moment, I made a promise: I would find a way to always stay connected with her, even when everything else fails.
Recently, I was at a client's place installing a security system. He mentioned his mother was going through similar struggles and asked if I could build something to help. That question stuck with me.
I searched for existing solutions. What I found was either:
- ✕ Too expensive — Institutional systems out of reach
- ✕ Too complicated — Apps that seniors can't use
- ✕ Too impersonal — Technology without humanity
So I decided to build it myself.
What is AlwaysWith?
AlwaysWith means exactly what it says. Always with you, always connected, regardless of distance.
It's built on three core principles:
Simple by Design
Large buttons, clear actions. The "Do I have duties now?" button tells you exactly what to do next.
Gentle Technology
Never rushes. Never judges. Celebrates every small victory.
Family Connection
Technology that connects families, not replaces them.
