By day, a warm night-light in her bathroom or bedroom. Inside, invisible radar notices a fall and asks aloud if she's okay. Your phone rings only when she doesn't answer.
A soft glow when she gets up at night, a quiet ceramic shape by day — no screens, no beeping, nothing to charge, no 2 a.m. gap while a smartwatch sits on its charger. Two adhesive strips put it on her wall at eye level: no drill, no tools, no installer. Plug it in, let the app walk you through a one-time room check — she doesn't lift a finger, and nothing changes in her routine.
A 60 GHz radar reads the motion signature of a fall, even through shower steam. A second 24 GHz radar confirms she's in the room before anything happens. Neither has a lens, so neither can take a picture.
Two radars cross-confirm what happened before anyone is called — and neither of them has a lens. Here is everything inside the housing.
On a normal night it's just a light. The mic and speaker wake only when both radars agree something is wrong — day-to-day nothing listens, nothing is recorded. Every night ends one of three ways:
Emergency only
Clear alerts when it matters, a simple status view in between — and when it's real, Liacare works through your care circle until someone answers. No live video, no feed to scroll — she keeps her privacy, you keep your peace.
One optional device, two jobs. When the internet lags or dies, the Hub carries the check-in on its own battery and cellular line — and day-to-day it's her voice companion: calls, messages, music.
+ Liacare Hub · $249 at checkout
Same privacy contract: monitoring stays inside the home — only the calls and notes she chooses to send ever leave it.
She answers at 9 a.m. — but the anxiety between calls never goes away.
Reserve hers →Three hours away. If she doesn't pick up, the two-hour window of worry begins.
Reserve hers →You won't hire a stranger into your home — but you can't carry this alone.
Reserve one →A safety net that doesn't watch you, doesn't beep, and doesn't turn home into a clinic.
Reserve yours →“I think she doesn't like to wear it because it makes her feel old… it's almost like admitting that she needs help.”
“My dad is pretty blunt. He basically said: ‘This is ridiculous. Get this out of here.’”
“She took a shower, came out, and became very dizzy… fell and was not able to move.”
Stop panicking when she doesn't answer the phone. At night the Nightlight is on duty: if she falls, it asks her out loud right in the room — and your phone rings only if she stays silent. No news means she's okay.
It hangs where night falls actually happen — the bathroom, the bedroom, the path between. Radar reads motion through steam and darkness, and it has no lens — it watches the room without ever seeing her.
Out of the box it runs on her home Wi-Fi. Add the optional Hub and the check-in gets its own battery and cellular line — Wi-Fi down, power out, the question still gets asked and the call still reaches you.
Medical alert services charge $30–50 every month, forever. The Nightlight is one $149 founding payment — no mandatory subscription, no 3-year contracts, nothing to cancel.
DON'T pitch a medical device. SAY: "I got you a warm night-light for the hallway — it turns on by itself when you get up." Frame it as a home upgrade, not equipment.
When she inevitably asks if you are watching her, be absolute. SAY: "There are zero cameras. It uses a blind motion sensor that can't take pictures. Your privacy stays yours."
SAY: "You don't need to wear that ugly hospital button anymore or remember to charge a smartwatch." Emphasize that she doesn't have to change a single daily habit.
Tap into her instinct to protect you. SAY: "Mom, my anxiety keeps me up at night. Would you let me install this just so I can sleep a little better?" Make it a favor to your mental health, not a fix for her age.
Prototype updates, honest engineering notes, and early access when we ship — about one email a month, written by the founders, not a marketing team
No — zero cameras, ever. Inside is a blind radar sensor: radio waves that notice a fall pattern but physically can't take a picture. If you later add the optional Hub, its camera exists only for family video calls that she starts — it plays no part in monitoring.
No. The radar reads the motion signature of a real human fall — posture and descent speed, not just movement — so pets and dropped objects are ignored. And before anyone is called, the Nightlight asks aloud: “Are you okay?” If she answers, the alert ends there and nobody is woken up.
Absolutely not — that's the point of Liacare. Zero wearables to forget, zero batteries to charge, zero buttons to press. The Nightlight watches over the room on its own; she doesn't change a single habit or sacrifice an ounce of dignity.
The Nightlight needs her home Wi-Fi and a working outlet to reach your phone. If you want the safety net to survive blackouts, that's exactly what the optional Hub ($249) adds: a built-in battery and a cellular line of its own — the question still gets asked and the call still reaches you.
Yes. Radio waves pass through shower steam, glass doors and plastic curtains that would blind a camera — and the bathroom is exactly the room where a camera could never go anyway.
It saves your spot in the founding batch of 300 and locks 50% off — $149 instead of $298. The $5 is credited to your order: pay the balance when it ships (est. Q2 2027), or get your $5 back anytime, no questions asked.
No. Fall detection, radar monitoring and family alerts work forever out of the box — the Nightlight is one $149 payment, no subscription, no 3-year contracts, nothing to cancel.
An optional extra — and it has nothing to do with safety: fall detection works fully without it. The Companion AI adds conversational voice check-ins and everyday company for her. You can add or drop it anytime.
A 20-point room-by-room checklist from our research — plus prototype updates and first dibs when the Nightlight ships.