NickBefore there was a company, there was really just my family trying to keep my grandpa in the loop. He loves the Detroit Tigers, but a lot of times he'd forget when they were playing. My mom, my uncles, and I would all call at different times to remind him to tune in. But the Tigers play over 160 games a year, so inevitably we missed quite a few.

And that's with a family that really shows up. My mom has spent years making sure her parents are well taken care of: always on the phone, traveling, coordinating caregivers. The big stuff, the finances and the doctors, was mostly covered between her, my uncles, and paid caregivers. But it still felt like something was missing. Not the must-haves. The small, human things that quietly slip. A ballgame he would have loved. A show he meant to watch. A day when everyone seems busy and he barely talks to anyone.

My co-founder and good friend David and I both have grandparents we love, and we kept coming back to that gap. The first thing I wanted to crack was simple: a call a few minutes before first pitch letting my grandpa know the game is starting, where to watch it, and how the team has been doing lately. That worked, and Donna grew from there.

NickThey're the things that make a day feel like your day. Actually watching the Tigers at 7 or the Oscars at 9. Enjoying your Mahjong group at 10, and actually being ready to go because you knew your ride would be there at 9:30. Remembering to take the trash out before you leave so that you don't miss trash day and have a smelly place all week. Knowing what's going on in the world so you have something to talk about.

None of these are life or death, which is exactly why they slip. Nobody builds a care plan around them.

But I think they matter a lot. They're how people stay themselves. My grandpa isn't "a senior who needs care," he's a Tigers fan. When the little things start slipping, you don't just miss a game, you slowly lose touch with your fandom that makes you who you are, and lose the conversations that come with it. That's a big deal for quality of life, even if it never shows up on a checklist.

NickI've seen what an awesome family caregiver looks like, because my mom is one. It really is like a job, and in that job she's the model employee. I'll admit I've never been in a true primary caregiver role myself. I love to help, but she and my uncles carry the real weight.

What I noticed watching her is how much of her time with her parents turned into check-ins. Did you eat? Did you go? Did anyone call? Those are loving questions, and they need to get asked. But when every call starts there, there's less room left for just being their daughter.

That's the problem we're trying to help with. Donna isn't meant to replace anything my mom does, and she'd never let it anyway. The idea is to support her need for getting answers to those check-in questions, so she's better assured her parents are alright and can spend even more time with them having more fun conversations and leaning back into a core parent-daughter relationship.

NickIt taught me that the little stuff is where the relationship actually lives. "Did you remember the game?" is basically a quiz, and when the answer is "no, I forgot it was on," it's a little sad for both of you. "Can you believe that ninth inning?" is a conversation. It's two fans talking.

Here's one of my favorite hypotheticals I like to lay out: Let's say three things are true. 1) You talk to your mom every Monday. 2) You both love the Oscars. 3) She's gotten a bit forgetful. Would you rather spend that Monday call talking about last night's Oscars ceremony, or asking her "did you watch the awards?" and her telling you that she didn't realize it was on? If Donna calls on Sunday to remind her it's airing, you get the first version.

That's the whole idea. The more we can help little things not slip through the cracks, the more you get to just be the grandson, son, or daughter. That's the part of the relationship nobody wants to lose.

NickOlder adults have gotten the least value out of AI so far. A lot of tech is built assuming seniors can't or won't use it, and honestly I think that says more about the tech than the seniors.

When I looked at what modern AI is actually good at, it lined up surprisingly well with what slips through the cracks for older adults. It's endlessly patient. It's happy to talk about the Tigers' bullpen for twenty minutes, or answer the same question five times without a sigh. It's there at 8pm on a Tuesday when everyone else is busy. It can remember the little details that make a conversation feel personal, like how last night's game went or what you said you were cooking this weekend. And it knows what's going on in the world, so it can catch you up on the things you care about. That's a pretty good description of what my grandpa could've used from a phone call on a quiet day. The missing piece was making it work on the technology seniors already use every day: a regular phone call, cell or landline, with no app or new device on their end.

As for what seniors have taught me, a few things.

First, getting to hang out with seniors and watch them try talking to AI for the first time is sort of like being a third wheel on a first date. The first couple of dates can feel a little interview-y while you get to know each other, and it's similar watching seniors find their rhythm when talking to Donna. But then they figure out the cadence, and because Donna remembers what you talked about on prior calls, the conversations build on each other. Like a budding relationship, you see the rapport develop, and that's when so many of our users really start to get value out of the calls.

Second, many seniors are way more open to new things than people give them credit for, as long as you're honest with them and it's genuinely useful.

And third, it always pays to be curious and go for adventure. I get to hang out with so many older adults as a part of my newfound career, and I'm always told directly, or subtly through the retelling of their favorite stories, to go for it!

NickBecause I think about my own grandparents every time we make a decision. If I wouldn't want it for them, we shouldn't do it to anyone else's.

Older adults already get a lot of calls from people pretending to be something they're not. The last thing we wanted was to be one more. So Donna is upfront that she's an AI, every time. Before any regular calls start, there's a consent call where she introduces herself, explains what she is, and your parent decides whether they want the calls. We never sneak her in or pretend she's a person. Honestly, it works better that way too. When everyone's on the same page, the conversations are more relaxed.

The business model is the same idea. We don't sell data and we don't show ads to seniors. You pay a subscription and that's the whole arrangement (right now Donna is free while we're in beta). The people on the other end of the phone are trusting us with their conversations, and we want to treat that trust the way we'd want someone to treat our own families'.

NickThis is the thing I care about most. Human connection means far more to an older adult than any piece of technology, and Donna is never meant to replace it. She's one extra touchpoint in the day, on top of the people who already love them, for the quiet stretches when family and caregivers just can't be there.

For me the line is pretty simple: technology should add to a senior's day, never subtract people from it. A few things follow from that. Be honest that it's AI. Let the older adult choose, and respect it if they say no. Keep the family in the loop, which is why families get a short recap after each call. And measure success by whether the real conversations get better, not by how many minutes someone spends talking to an AI.

I won't repeat my Oscars hypothetical, but that's the framing through which we want people to use Donna: as an extra touchpoint that both helps an older loved one enjoy an otherwise quiet evening and, even more importantly, stay better connected so they can have an even more enjoyable chat with their child, friend, or stranger the next day.

NickNot one single surprise, but two recent moments have stuck with me:

1. I was talking to a gerontologist and aging-in-place expert recently, and he was telling me the potential for Donna isn't just to help someone be less forgetful or live alone better. It's to help them feel like they MATTER. (He used all caps, not me!) Even though I'll probably still talk about Donna as a "caregiving tool" and a "digital assistant for older adults," in a more abstract way, yes, we are sort of building something to help older adults feel like they matter.

When they know what's going on with their interests and news, they can have better opinions and conversations about it with other people, helping them feel connected. Donna, of course, is built to help with that.

When they get reminders to stay on top of things like their diets or supplements from Donna, and then do so, their family doesn't have to nag as much and can better use time together just to chat about fun things.

And even just getting a "Call Now" call from Donna (it's a special call type in the app) shows that their loved one might be busy but is still thinking of them.

All three of those are just a few examples of how Donna, indirectly, can help an older adult feel like they matter. I'd be lying if I said that conversation was the first time I'd considered the positive trickle-down effects of Donna, but his framing was super clear and I definitely use it as a guiding light when making product decisions.

2. In terms of a quick family story, I'm just happy to report that, for my grandpa, Donna has already achieved what we first set out to accomplish. In the prior few years, he was pretty disconnected from the team. And it was sad. This season that just ended (at least for the Tigers, since they missed the playoffs), my grandpa was so much more tuned into the team than he'd been in years, and if I say so myself, so much happier because of it. Every older adult and caregiver we work with has different needs, so our journey building Donna is only just getting started, but I'm really happy to be able to report an early W.

NickI'll start by saying I definitely wouldn't call myself an expert in caregiving, so take this as one guy's observation. But the thing I keep coming back to is how much the little things matter.

Families rightly pour their energy into the big stuff, the finances, the doctors, keeping Mom or Dad safe. That's hard, scary work. It's like infrastructure, and it's table stakes just to survive. But once you have that somewhat under control, then what? That's where so many families I talk to get stumped. What can you do, beyond calling and visiting, to help them actually thrive?

I don't think there's one right answer, and what works great for one person may be useless for another. But it usually lives in the specifics: their team, their show, their friends, the news they follow, plus the general vibe: having something to look forward to, an element of adventure and spontaneity, feelings of purpose and community, and just having someone to tell about their day. It can sometimes take a lot of effort, resources, and even serendipity to make this all happen. And it often must come from different sources: friends and family, organizations, care tools, and even strangers. There's no magic pill that makes someone's day meaningful. We can only do our best to create a good environment for the good days to happen organically.

And I always say, if you're stuck on this, it's not a you problem. Tons of caregivers are. But it's worth chipping away at, because it's what makes life feel worth living.

NickTechnology is moving so fast, it's almost hard to imagine what roles it will be able to play. If you asked me 18 months ago my vision for 10 years out, I might have described where we're already at today.

My hope for the future is that tech is so capable and reliable that we can entrust it to handle so many of the headaches that burden families today. Endless paperwork and confusing forms, sorted at the click of a button. An expensive home remodel needed so an older adult can keep living there, scoped out and taken care of with ease. Rides to appointments or a senior center, with a Waymo waiting in your driveway right when you need to leave (and maybe even a robot to help you safely make it from the front porch to the car). And all of this is not to mention the advances in health and medicine I hope can be achieved with the help of AI.

If tomorrow's tech can better help older adults live more connected, healthy, stress-free lives, I'll be pumped about the future. I have no clue what Donna will look like in 10 years, but best believe we'll do our best to keep making it even better and more helpful each and every day!

What future tech should never take away is the people. Sitting next to someone at a ballgame, the hug from a granddaughter, the visit from an old friend, the voice of your own kid on the phone. Technology can help make those moments better and more frequent. It should never be a reason they happen less. And it should never take away an older adult's right to choose. They should always get to decide what's in their life.