My dad won't read this, and I still want to save his life stories

Hi, I’m Omar, the founder and CEO of Kinnect. This is one of my "From Omar" reflections, a space where I share real thoughts on family, relationships, and what it means to build something meaningful. It’s personal, sometimes messy, but always honest.

My dad’s probably never going to read this. And that’s okay.

He’s Puerto Rican, not my biological father, but he’s the man who raised me from the moment I was born. If you know him, you’d know he’s not big on words — but he’s big on action. That's why he's not my step-dad, but my dad.

He’s the guy who showed up.

He’d be at every one of my sports games, driving me and my siblings wherever we needed to be. He didn’t just drop us off. He stayed. He watched. He was there. We call him Pi (pronounced like the number, P-I), and I think that’s fitting. He’s constant, steady, and present.

If there’s one thing I learned from him, it’s that love doesn’t always need words. Sometimes love is shown in the everyday actions — picking you up after practice, fixing something in the house without being asked, or making sure you’re fed before he eats.

Here’s the thing about my dad: he’s not going to download this app. Not right away at least. Even though he's my dad, he's not the target audience (yet).

He’s not going to scroll through the Kinnect website.
He’s not going to check his email for an update.
He’s just... not that kind of person.

And honestly, that’s okay.

He’s old-school. He’s a quiet, steady, social-media-skeptical, action-over-words kind of man. He’d rather spend his time watching TV, driving around, or working on things around the house. He doesn’t need an app to share how he’s feeling. That’s just not who he is.

And this is where things get real for me.

If I’m being honest, I know it’s going to be hard to capture him. And I mean really capture him — his thoughts, his perspective, his stories, and all the little things that make him him. I know it’s going to be tough to get those things from him while he’s still here.

Because if I wait until he’s gone, I’ll be left with regret.

Asking someone to save their memories who doesn’t want to

The challenge isn’t that my dad doesn’t have stories.
It’s not that he doesn’t have wisdom to share.

I know he’s not alone in this.

This is something I hear from a lot of people. “My grandmother would never use an app.” “My uncle wouldn’t want to write anything down.” “I don’t know how to get my dad to talk about himself.”

I get it.

But I also know that just because someone won’t sit down to tell you their story doesn’t mean it’s not worth capturing. It just means we have to get creative.

This is why I’m so focused on solving this with Kinnect.

We can’t expect people like my dad to change how they interact with the world.
We have to change how we deliver the experience to them.

How do you capture someone who refuses to be captured?

Here’s what I’m thinking:
If I know my dad’s not going to fill out a form, then I shouldn’t be giving him a form.
If I know he’s not going to type out his thoughts, then I shouldn’t be asking him to type.

I have to think about delivery.

The challenge isn't “How do I get him to engage?” — it’s “How do I deliver this experience in a way that he naturally engages without realizing it?”

Here’s what that might look like:

• Phone calls as story capture: Imagine you’re on the phone with your dad, and Kinnect auto-prompts you afterward: “Did your dad mention a story today? Would you like to save it?”
• Passive capture tools: What if I could turn our everyday conversations into stored memories? Like a passive memory capture where, after a call, I could highlight moments I want to remember.
• Simple voice prompts: Instead of an app, what if I called him and asked, “Hey Dad, what’s one thing you learned as a teenager that still sticks with you today?” If he answers, I can save it. No app needed on his end.

The goal isn’t to change him. The goal is to meet him where he is.

The people we love are not single use cases

My dad isn’t a "single use case."

He represents so many people in our lives:

• The grandmother who never had a smartphone.
• The uncle who never wanted to "be online."
• The mom who prefers phone calls to text messages.

When I think about the future of Kinnect, I think about people like my dad.
I think about how to design a system that doesn’t force them to change, but instead works with them as they are.

If I can solve for him, I can solve for so many others.

If I can figure out how to capture his memories without asking him to "download this app" or "fill out this form," then I’m not just solving for my dad — I’m solving for thousands of families across the world who face the exact same challenge.

And the thing is, it’s not impossible.

We have the technology.
We have the insight.
We have the empathy.

So, while it’s easy to say, “He won’t use an app,” I don’t accept that as the end of the story. It’s a design challenge. And I’m ready to take it on.

abrazos,
omar