It became our ritual to talk by phone across 4,800 miles.
I tried to call at least once a month, but back then calls were expensive — about $4–5 per minute. We couldn’t talk for long, so we felt pressure to make every minute “worth it.” Sometimes that made it harder to talk at all.
When I was growing up, we were a family of seven. We ran a family business, and our dinner table was always full of conversation. Nothing special — just everyday talk. But it was constant, natural, and warm.
Somehow, my mother and I couldn’t bring that same feeling into our long-distance calls. Even after the cost dropped and time was no longer the issue, the conversation never quite flowed the same way.
My mother passed away a few years ago. I still think about those calls.
I often wonder if she would have enjoyed simply talking about nothing — like we used to at the dinner table. Small things. Her goldfish. The first smell of daphne in the season. Just ordinary moments.
I believe many seniors carry countless stories like that inside them.
Stories they’ve told many times.
People only they remember.
Little details that may seem unimportant to others.
But those conversations matter.
The reality is, it’s difficult for us to tune into that pace of conversation. At least, it was for me. It doesn’t mean we don’t care. It just means our lives move at a different speed, and it’s not always easy to meet in the middle.
That thought stayed with me.
And it led me to build something I wish had existed back then — something my mother might have enjoyed having in her day.
Sometimes what people need most is not an answer.
Just something that stays and listens.
That is why I created Roslein.