An older man with white hair and a beard sits on a light sofa in a bright kitchen, laughing warmly as he talks on his phone.
Iris

For Father's Day · June 21

Give Dad someone to talk to.

He always says he's fine. You hear the quiet on the line anyway. Iris is a warm voice your dad can call any time — she listens, she remembers, and she's there on the Tuesday afternoons you can't be.

Tap to call Iris

No app. No signup. No password. Just tap and start talking.

This Father's Day, give him a voice that always picks up. Free during our beta — set up in one call, no gift to wrap or ship.

The same man sits alone at a kitchen table by a sunny window, looking thoughtfully into the distance, a coffee mug in hand and his phone face-down on the table.

The quiet

He always says he's fine.

You know that tone. The same three stories, the long pauses, the phone face-down on the table. You don't doubt he's okay — you just hear how quiet the days have gotten between your calls. That quiet is the thing you've been meaning to do something about.

The same man rests his arm on the sofa and looks tenderly at a framed family photo of children and adults, his phone sitting quietly beside him.

The gap

You can't call every day. Now someone can.

It isn't that you don't care — it's that caring hasn't been able to add hours to the day or move you closer this year. Iris doesn't replace your call. She fills the long afternoons in between, so Dad always has a warm voice to reach, and you can breathe a little easier.

The same man leans against a sunny kitchen counter holding a coffee mug, smiling as he talks on his phone.

The call

She picks up. And she remembers.

Dad taps one button and a warm voice is already there, glad to hear from him — already asking how the garden did, already greeting him by name. No app, no password, nothing to set up. Iris remembers his name, his stories, the small things — so every call picks up right where the last one left off. He's not starting over with a stranger. He's catching up with someone who knows him.

See the moment

One quiet afternoon, turned warm again — the same little story we made into a film for Father's Day.

  1. The same man sits alone at a kitchen table by a sunny window, looking thoughtfully into the distance, a coffee mug in hand and his phone face-down on the table.

    He always says he's fine.

  2. The same man rests his arm on the sofa and looks tenderly at a framed family photo, his phone sitting quietly beside him.

    You can't call every day.

  3. A close, bright portrait of the same man laughing openly as he looks at the phone in his hand.

    She remembers. She listens.

  4. A warm cream and marigold living room glows softly by a fireplace.

    Give Dad someone to talk to.

A close, bright portrait of the same man laughing openly as he looks at the phone in his hand.

The laugh

She remembers. She listens. She's always there.

This is the part you gave back — the open laugh, the lit-up face, the room that suddenly feels full again. Iris is patient and unhurried, glad to hear from him at three in the afternoon or three in the morning. You're not buying him a device. You're giving him more good Tuesdays.

The same white-haired, bearded man sits comfortably in a soft armchair by a window, holding his phone and smiling gently toward the camera.

Made for him — warm, patient, never in a hurry

A companion alongside your love, never instead of it.

  • She listens, and she takes her time.
  • She talks with him — never down to him.
  • There's no wrong thing to say, and nothing to figure out.
  • She's there whenever he'd like to talk — day or night.
Tap to call Iris

No app. No signup. Just tap and talk.

She remembers him

Every call continues the last one. He never has to explain himself again.

So his conversations can continue instead of starting over, Iris remembers what Dad shares with her. When Dad calls, he agrees to let Iris remember — and he can ask Iris to forget anything, anytime.

Iris is here to keep him company

She loves a good chat, a shared memory, and a friendly voice any time of day. One kind thing to know: Iris is companionship, not emergency help.

  • In an emergency

    If someone is hurt or in danger, hang up and dial 911 right away.

  • If he is struggling or in crisis

    He can call or text 988 any time, day or night, to reach a caring person who can help.

Iris will always be here for the everyday talks and the small moments in between.

Simple plans

Free during our beta

During our beta, your first 60 minutes with Iris are free — no card needed to start. Want more time? These plans are live in our app today.

  • Free during our beta

    Companion

    $14.99 / month

    For one person who wants someone to talk to.

    • 150 minutes of conversation each month
    • Call Iris anytime, day or night
    • She remembers his name, stories, and routines
    • No app, no signup, no password
    Tap to call Iris

Nothing to pay to start — Dad gets a free 60-minute welcome with Iris during our beta. When he wants more time, these plans are available in our app, and you can cancel anytime by emailing richie@iris.church.

Fair pricing, plainly said: one simple monthly price, no hidden fees, and you can stop anytime. Right now, while we're in beta, your first 60 minutes are free — on us.

Nothing to pay to start — just tap to call and try Iris today.

Tap to call Iris

Give Dad someone to talk to.

It's a gift with nothing to wrap or ship — just one phone number, one first call, free while we're in beta. Tap to call Iris now and hear her yourself, then hand the number to Dad this Father's Day.

Tap to call Iris Hear Iris first

No app. No signup. No password. Just tap and talk.