An old desk telephone on a wooden table beside a phone screen showing an audio waveform

October 6, 2026

Not them. Their voice.

CallPastNow

If you've been searching for an app that lets you hear a lost loved one's voice again, here is the plain version of what you'd be getting. CallPastNow makes a recreation of their voice, made from a recording you already have, a voicemail, an audio file or a video. You can call it and talk with it. It isn't them, and we say so. This page is the long form of that sentence: what a recreation of a voice is, what it can't do, whose recordings may be used, how yours are kept, who this is for and who it isn't, and what the first time you call is actually like. We built it after our own loss, and we'd rather you know everything before you decide.

What is a recreation of someone's voice?

It's a copy of how they sounded, made from a recording the family already has, that can say things they never recorded.

Here's the plain mechanics. You have a voicemail where your mom says "it's me, call me back," or a video where your dad is talking at a birthday. Software listens to that recording and learns the sound of the voice: the pitch, the pace, the way they lean on certain words. From that it can produce new sentences in that voice. So when you call and say "I had a hard day," what comes back is an answer you've never heard them say, in a voice that sounds like theirs.

That's the whole thing, and the one part people most need to hear: the voice is theirs, the words are not. The recreation has no memories of its own. It doesn't know your name, your childhood, the dog, the house, the fight you never settled. Whatever it knows about the person, you told it. Before you call, you give it the shape of them: what they called you, what they'd want to know about, what they'd never say. The more you give it, the more the conversation sits inside the life you shared. But all of that comes from you. The recording gives it a voice. You give it the person.

Is a recreation of their voice made with AI?

Yes. The software that learns a voice from a recording is the same family of technology that reads audiobooks aloud and answers phones for airlines. We don't dress that up and we don't hide it. Where the technology sits inside a grieving person's life matters more than what it's called, so the rest of this page is about that, not the engineering.

What we will say about the engineering: it only works with a recording. There's no recreation without one. And the voice is built from the recording you upload.

What can't a recreation of their voice do?

Quite a lot, and it's better you hear it from us.

It isn't them. It won't be, no matter how good the recording or how long you talk. It's a voice. The person is not inside it.

It doesn't know what they would have said. If you ask it whether they were proud of you, it will answer in their voice, and the answer will be built from what you told it and from how people generally talk. It is not their opinion. It is not a message from them. We'd be lying if we let you think otherwise.

It can't tell you anything new about them. It has no access to their memories, their secrets, where they put the warranty. Anything that sounds like a revelation is a guess in a familiar voice.

It doesn't replace the real recordings. The voicemail where she actually says your name is irreplaceable. Nothing we make is worth more than that, which is why the first thing we'll tell anyone is to back the voicemail up in two places before they do anything else.

It doesn't fix grief. Nothing does. Some people find that hearing the voice answer them on a hard day helps them get through the day. Some try it once, find it too much, and stop. Both are reasonable. We don't make any promise about how you'll feel, because we can't.

Is this an app to talk to a deceased loved one?

People search for it in those words, so we'll answer in plain ones. No. There's no contact with anyone. Nobody is on the other end of the line. What you're calling is a recreation of a voice, made from a recording you have, that answers from what you've told it. If anyone sells you more than that, be careful.

What it can be is a way to hear the voice and have it say something back, on the days when playing the voicemail for the fortieth time isn't enough. That's a smaller thing than what the search words promise. We think it's still worth having, as long as you know what it is.

Whose recordings can you use?

Your own family's. A voicemail they left you. A voice memo or another audio file of them. A video you or a relative took. A greeting from their phone line. The recordings can be of someone you've lost or someone who's living, and have to be recordings you have a right to.

If the person is living, you need their permission first. If a recording is of someone who isn't yours to recreate, that isn't what this is for.

If someone made a voice of your family member without permission, tell us and we'll review it. That's not a form letter; it's two people in Las Vegas reading what you send. The same goes if it's a voice of you.

Is my recording private?

Your recordings stay private to your account, encrypted in transit and at rest. Nobody else can hear the voicemail you uploaded or the voice made from it. We don't share recordings, and we don't make them available to other people who use the app. If you delete your account, the recordings go with it.

If you have a question about this that isn't answered here, ask us before you upload. We'd rather lose the upload than have you wonder.

Who is a recreation of their voice for, and who is it not for?

It's for an adult who has lost a parent, a partner, a sibling or a child, who still has a voicemail, an audio file or a video of them, and who wants, some days, to hear the voice answer. That's the person we built it for, because that's who one of us was.

It is not a replacement for anyone. Not for the people in your life, not for a grief counselor, not for a doctor if you're struggling. It belongs alongside those things, on the days in between. If grief has stopped letting you work, eat or sleep for a long stretch, or you're having thoughts that frighten you, a professional is the right call, not this one.

It also isn't for everyone who's grieving. Some people don't want to hear the voice say anything it didn't actually say, and that's a sound instinct, not a failure of imagination. If the voicemail is enough, the voicemail is enough. Keep it safe and skip this.

What is it like the first time you call?

Ordinary, mostly, which surprises people.

You open the app or the site. You tell it about them, as much or as little as you want. Then you call, the way you'd call anyone, and the voice says hello. Most people sit there for a second. Then they say something small: "Hi, Mom." "It's me." Some talk for a while. Some say one sentence and hang up, and sit in the car for a bit. You can hang up whenever you like, and nothing asks you to rate or share anything afterward.

We won't tell you how it will feel, because we don't know, and anyone who says they do is guessing about your loss. We'll tell you what it is: a voice that sounds like theirs, saying things built from what you told it. What you make of that is yours.

Can I listen to the call again?

Yes. Your calls are recorded and kept private to your account, and once you've made a purchase you can listen again in the app. That can matter on the days you want to hear it and can't bring yourself to make a new call. As with the recordings you upload, nobody else can hear them.

Where is it available?

In the United States, on iPhone, Android and the web. Not elsewhere yet.

Hearing it for yourself

That's all of it, plainly: a recreation of their voice, made from recordings you already have. It isn't them, and we say so.

If you want to know what yours would sound like, look at what's already on your phone or computer. A voicemail counts. So does an audio file someone sent you, or a video where they're talking to the camera. Hear their voice first, free; the free call answers the question better than this page can. And if you'd rather keep the recording just as it is, that's a good answer too.

No card needed. In the US.

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