Every family caring for an ageing parent eventually builds a system. It is almost always a group chat and a shared document, and it almost always fails in the same two ways: the chat is a river you cannot search, and the document forks until nobody knows which medication list is current.

Kin replaces both with a record. Not a feed to keep up with, not a project management board, and not a chart — one private timeline, kept by the caregiver, entered in seconds by the one who was in the room.

i · Log what happened, in seconds

An entry is a line and a tag: doctor, meds, fall, call, visit, other. It is meant to be typed in a hospital corridor with one hand, which is why there is no form to fill in and nothing required beyond the sentence itself.

The discipline is low on purpose. A family that has to think about how to record something records nothing, and a record with gaps in it is worse than useless when a new consultant asks when the confusion started.

ii · One timeline holding the whole story

Entries land in a single chronological feed. Recent shows the last handful; the history and calendar screens group the months, for the appointment where somebody has to account for the last three of them.

This is the part a group chat cannot do. Everything is in one order, dated and tagged — so "when did the dizziness start" has an answer, and the insights screen shows the shape of the weeks at a glance.

iii · A record you can hand over

A record is only useful if it can leave the phone. Kin exports the whole timeline to CSV in one tap — every entry, tag and date — so the history can go to a consultant, a care manager, or a sibling on paper or by email.

You choose who sees it and when. Nothing is filed or forwarded on your behalf — the export is yours to hand over, which is exactly the right amount of sharing for a record this private.

iv · The invisible work, made visible

In most families one person is doing the large majority of the work, and it is invisible because none of it is announced. The calls, the forms, the prescription collected on the way home — no one sees them, so no one counts them, and the sibling far away is not lying when they say they did not know.

The record counts them without anyone having to make the accusation. Three months of entries, exported and shared, is a plain answer to a question that is very hard to ask out loud — it simply stops the work being invisible, which is usually where the resentment was coming from.

What it does not do

Kin is a coordination record kept by a caregiver for their own use. It is not a medical chart, not a pharmacy system, and not a HIPAA-covered service, and it does not send anything to a doctor, an insurer, or a facility on your behalf. If a clinician wants the history, you export it and hand it over yourself.

Your parent is not a user of it. She installs nothing, signs nothing, and learns nothing — asking someone with early memory trouble to adopt an app is how most of these systems fail on the first day.

Why we made it

Because the thing that breaks a family is almost never the caring. It is the sixth month of one person holding all of it in their head, and the slow conversion of that into a resentment nobody has a way to name.

Free to try for 7 days, then $0.99 a month or $7.99 a year. The subscription is what funds it — no advertising and no data sale, because the record should never pay for itself with what it contains. Cancel anytime in App Store settings; the CSV export is always yours.