L’esoterica0%
L’esoterica
Most people leave without ever getting to speak for themselves. This is where you say it plainly, so the ones who come after you know exactly who you were.
Tell us when you were born and the questions bend toward the history you actually lived through.
Change your mind later and both answers remain, a record of how you grew.
Add a photo for each person you mention, so the family has a face to hold.
A daily family question, building a shared record across the years.
This early edition keeps everything on this device, so you can begin with family today. Nothing leaves your hands.
Just enough to tailor what we ask. Leave anything blank.
Three things only, and each one earns its place. The year decides which history you are shown, so you are asked where you were when it happened rather than being taught it. The place shapes the same. The name is simply how the archive addresses you. None of it is sent anywhere.
This part of the archive asks about hard things. You can skip any question, stop whenever you like, or .
Drawn from your answers. Edit it, then save. This is what family sees first.
Written words keep what was said. A recording keeps how it was said, the pauses and the laugh, and that is the part nobody can write down afterwards.
Your device reads this in its own voice. To record the story in your voice, that's coming in a later version.
Add the people who matter and how they relate to you. The tree arranges itself.
A private letter, sealed until the right moment. Add a passphrase and it is truly locked; only the passphrase opens it.
The ring, the watch, the tools, the photograph on the stairs. Write down where each one came from and who you would like to have it. Families fall out over objects far more often than over money, and almost always because nobody wrote it down.
A letter to someone who will never read it. The parent who died before you could say it, the person you fell out with, the version of yourself who needed telling. These never appear in the Book, and they are never sent to the family vault. They stay on this device and in your own backup file, so a new phone does not lose them. You can burn one whenever you want.
No letters yet. The first one is usually the hardest and the most worth writing.
A letter can be sealed two ways. With a date alone, the seal is a family promise; it can be broken early, though the app will ask twice. Add a passphrase and the letter is locked with real encryption; without the passphrase it can never be read, by anyone, including you.
A forgotten passphrase means this letter is gone for good. A reminder is kept in plain words beside it, so write something only your family would understand, never the passphrase itself.
Find family members by their skills and services. Support local, support family.
Today's question. Anyone you share this with can answer too.
Anyone can leave a question here for someone else to answer. A grandchild who wants to know something can ask, and it waits until the person is ready.
A record of your days. Tap a date to write a memory, a thought, or a moment worth keeping. You can speak it instead of typing.
Everything said here in plain advice and family sayings, gathered in one place. This is the page to hand to someone who is about to make a decision, or who just misses the sound of a voice.
A doctor will one day ask someone in this family what runs in it. This is where the answer lives. Record who had what, and how old they were when it was found, because age at diagnosis is what tells a doctor whether a pattern is ordinary or worth watching.
This is a family record, not medical advice, and nothing here can diagnose anyone. Its job is to give a real doctor better information than memory can. Bring it to an appointment rather than drawing conclusions from it at home.
The things that matter most in an emergency, when the person cannot say them out loud. Medicines, foods, anaesthetic, anything that has ever caused a bad reaction.
Kept on this device like everything else here. Print it and put a copy where someone would actually find it.
More families lose a recipe than lose a photograph. A recipe carried in someone's head is one funeral away from gone. Write it down the way you actually make it, including the part you never measure.
The Sunday table, the thing you always do on the first cold night, the toast nobody remembers starting. Traditions are lost quietly: not forgotten in one go, just not done one year, and then not again. Write down how it is actually done, so it can be followed rather than only missed.
Pictures and film kept on this device, sorted into the categories a family actually uses. These live in a larger store than the written archive, so they do not crowd out your answers.
The history you lived through, set beside your age at the time. Add your birth year in Settings to see it.
Ask the family something and let everyone weigh in. Good for reunions, holidays, names, plans, or just taking the temperature on how everyone's feeling about something going on right now.
Milestones and moments worth remembering. Births, weddings, graduations, first jobs, anything.
A place for family to leave a memory, a story, or a word of gratitude.
Your story lives only on this device. Keep a backup, and carry it to another device whenever you like.
Your story lives on this device and nowhere else. That is the point, and it is also the risk. A saved copy is what carries it to a new phone, or back after one is lost.
A photograph is dimmed automatically so the words stay readable. It is kept on this device like everything else.
This sets which moments from history we place beside your years, the ones you would actually remember living through. World events always show, and your country's moments are added on top.
Leave this on everything unless you want the history to lean toward what you remember most.
Save your written story, the answers, people, diary and letters, as one small file. If you have added photos or video, those live separately and are not in this file.
A second, larger file with every photograph and video, so nothing is left behind.
A private, end to end encrypted copy of your story on your own family server. It is sealed on this device before it travels. The server cannot read a word of it.
Not connected.
Your Family Key. Anyone holding it can read and change the vault. Write it down somewhere physical. If it is lost, the vault copy is lost with it. The copy on this device, and any copies you have saved, are not affected.
Share it in person or over a call when you can. If it must travel by message, delete the message once the key is safely written down on both ends.
Require your face, fingerprint, or device passcode before this story opens on this device. This locks the screen against someone who picks up your phone; it does not add a second layer of encryption on top of what already protects the file itself.
Checking this device...
Your recovery code. If this device ever stops recognising your face or fingerprint, for example after a repair, this is the only other way in. Write it down somewhere physical, away from this device.
This app makes no outside request at all. The typefaces are inside the file, so nothing is fetched from anyone, and it looks and works the same with the network switched off. The single exception is the family vault, and only if you choose to use one.
Some of these questions reach into difficult places. This page explains how to stop, how to keep something private, and where to find a real person to talk to.
Found something broken, or thought of something this should do? This opens your own email app with a message ready to send. Nothing is sent automatically, and nothing from your story is attached.
Software outlives nothing. Families outlive everything. This sheet explains, in plain language, what your files are and how someone could read them decades from now without this app.
The most important page you will print. A single sheet that tells someone you trust how to reach this archive if you no longer can. Fill in the blanks by hand, then keep it somewhere safe, with your will or in a home safe.
Your whole story, typeset as a book. Read it on screen, or print it to paper or PDF and hand your family something they can hold.
Every answer is saved in your words. Come back any day to add to it, change your mind, or write tomorrow's page. Both versions always remain.
Leaving the second blank keeps them among the living. Filling it turns their leaf to gold; they keep their place on the tree.
Say it however it was said in the family. If nobody ever really knew, that is worth writing down too.
Families are made in more ways than one, and the record should say which. This changes nothing about where they sit in the tree, only how they are described.
When they join and confirm it themselves, it stops being a guess, no more wondering what your people actually do.
Separate with commas. These become searchable so family can find who does what.
Use this to control whether they appear in the family directory.
Unlock it with your face, fingerprint, or device passcode.