You've sat down to set up the communication aid, and the screen is empty, and you realise you have no idea where to start. Your mum has had a stroke and can't easily find her words, and now you're being asked, in effect, to guess which ones she'll most want back. It feels like a lot of responsibility for a Tuesday evening.
Take the pressure off yourself first: you don't have to get it perfect, and you're not building the whole of her voice tonight. You're choosing a handful of everyday phrases that will do the most good soonest — and you can change them freely as you learn what she reaches for.
Start with the person, not the buttons
Before you type a single phrase, picture their actual day. What do they need to say most often? What do they get frustrated not being able to say? A phrase used ten times a day is worth more than twenty clever ones that never get tapped. If you can, watch for a day or two: the moments where communication breaks down are your shopping list.
The phrases that earn their place first
A good starter set usually covers four kinds of thing:
- Everyday needs — the plain, urgent ones. "I need a drink." "I need the toilet." "I'm too hot / too cold." "Can you help me?" "I'm in pain." These prevent the distress of an unmet need, so they come first.
- Feelings — because it's often easier to tap worried or frustrated or I'm alright than to describe it. Being able to say how you feel is part of staying a person, not just a list of needs.
- People and connection — names of family, and the small human lines that make a person themselves: "I love you." "Thank you." "Leave me a minute." "Stay with me."
- The social glue — yes, no, hello, please, that's lovely, I don't know, ask me later. Tiny words, huge for staying in a conversation.
An emergency phrase or screen is worth having too, clearly marked, for the moments that really matter.
Word them so they sound like your loved one
The phrases should feel like them, not like a textbook:
- Write in the first person — "I need..." not "He needs..." — because the aid is speaking as them.
- Use their own turns of phrase. If your dad always said "cuppa", not "cup of tea", use "cuppa". A voice that sounds like his own is easier to own.
- Keep each one short and to the point — a phrase that speaks in one tap beats a paragraph.
- Remember aphasia affects language, not intelligence. You're not simplifying for a simple mind; you're giving a sharp mind a faster route to the words. Keep the tone adult.
Keep it small, and let it grow
The commonest mistake is loading in dozens of phrases at once. A wall of buttons is overwhelming and slow to search, and it buries the phrases that matter. Start with the vital handful, live with it for a week, and watch: which buttons get used, which never do, what's missing at the moment it's needed. Then trim and add. A small, well-worn set that fits the person beats a vast one they can't navigate, every time.
Bring in the person — and their therapist
Wherever you can, choose with your loved one, not for them. Even if they can't tell you in words, they can often show you — a nod, a reaching gesture — which phrases feel right. It's their voice; they should shape it.
And this is exactly the kind of thing worth mentioning to their speech and language therapist (SLT). An SLT can tell you which words to prioritise for this particular person, how a communication aid fits with the therapy they're doing, and how to use it in a way that supports rather than replaces their own returning speech. A communication aid is a companion to that work, never a substitute for it.
Where My Voice fits
My Voice is a free tool built for exactly this: a screen of large, clear buttons that speak set phrases aloud, with feelings cards, an emergency screen, and a "build a sentence" helper for saying something new from a few taps. In a quiet carer area, a family member can shape it to the person — bigger buttons and forgiving taps for an unsteady hand, high contrast, a seeing-side layout, picture-led screens where words are hardest. You tick what fits, and it sets itself up. It's genuinely free, works on a phone, tablet or computer, and it's honest about being a communication aid rather than therapy.
If you're also making the wider setup gentler after a stroke, making a computer easier to use again covers the screen itself, and how to talk with someone who has aphasia covers the conversations around it.
The first phrases you choose won't be the last. But get a small, honest handful in place — the needs, the feelings, the people, the little words — and you've given someone back a way to be heard, one tap at a time. That's a very good Tuesday evening's work.