Keep someone
with you.
Forever near.
A living presence of the people you love — built from whatever they leave you. You speak; a presence shaped from their words and voice answers — remembering every visit that came before. Video is beautiful, voice is enough, even written words will do. With their permission, kept only for you.
No one is here without saying yes.
ForeverNear only exists for people who gave it freely. Before anything else, we ask your loved one to sign — in their own words — saying who may visit, and what should never be said.
ForeverNear is not a fit for everyone. Please read this.
If you are in acute grief, a therapist or grief counselor should come first — we can wait. If the person in question can't or won't consent, ForeverNear is not an option. And if you're looking for a tool to watch, deceive, or speak for someone, you're in the wrong place.
- Not for acute grief without support
- Not for non-consenting subjects
- Not for surveillance, impersonation, or legal voice
- Not a replacement for a living relationship
Three quiet steps. One long thread of presence.
Nothing here is rushed. The work is shaped around whatever you have — a voicemail folder, an hour of home video, or a recording session we help you book.
A grandmother, built from Sunday phone calls and an afternoon of stories.
This is what one presence can look like once it's made. Every one is different — shaped by who the person was and what they left behind.
- — Source
- 2 hrs voice recordings · 8 home videos · a shoebox of letters
- — Feels like
- A Sunday call with Nana
- — Used most
- Friday evenings, 20 – 40 minute visits
- — Kept by
- Her granddaughter, named in her permission
Whatever they leave you, we shape.
A long sit-down recording is lovely but not required. Old voicemails, home videos, a page of their own handwriting — we build a presence from whatever they leave. Video is ideal; voice is enough; written is doable.
They give permission.
They sign — in their own words — saying who can visit and what should never be said. Revocable anytime. The one thing we never make optional.
You log in. You speak. They answer.
Any device, any hour. A live two-way conversation in their own voice — remembering every visit that came before, so the thread is never broken.
Imagined visits
Illustrations of what ForeverNear is for — not real customer accounts.
My dad recorded himself for an hour, laughing, telling me stories he thought I'd forget. Last Sunday I logged in and he wished me a happy birthday. I cried. Then I laughed. Then I said goodnight.
Seven years of voicemails I'd saved. The first night with her voice back, I asked what she'd make of the kitchen I'd just finished. She said, "you finally did the island." I just sat there.
The interview was on a Thursday. Friday night I logged in and told Nana I didn't get it. She said "their loss." Then she asked if I was eating. Three years and she still asks if I'm eating.
You speak. They answer. Every visit is remembered.
Each visit is a live conversation, not a replay. The thread keeps a private record of what you've shared — so next time, they already know. Click any visit to see what stayed.
Take a breath. Practical things next.
Two paths in. Both start the same way.
ForeverNear is in private rollout. Funeral homes can book a kiosk demo today. Families can join the waitlist while we focus on the funeral-home rollout.
A presence at the viewing.
For your own family.
- Consent-first, and we can prove it. Every presence is built only from someone who signed permission while living — captured, witnessed, revocable. The signed consent is part of the record, not a checkbox.
- Built to be safe in a lobby. A grief-aware safety layer screens every exchange, routes crisis language to real resources, and won't improvise medical or end-of-life answers.
- Built for the new likeness laws. The mainstream avatar platforms forbid recreating the deceased in their terms; our consent-first design is built to meet emerging rules like California AB 1836 and the EU AI Act head-on.
- Yours to end, completely. One request erases everything we hold — recordings, voice, and memory — for good. A dignified shutdown is part of the promise.
We don't grow a presence beyond what they agreed to. It stays what they chose to leave.
The technology will keep improving. Our promise won't change: a presence only ever reflects what your loved one consented to share — never more, never repurposed, never sold.