This is Tell Me

The app is called Tell Me, because that's how each question begins.

"Tell me about your first car."

"Tell me about the day you met mum."

"Tell me about a place you've always wanted to visit but never have."

Each question is an invitation, not an obligation.

My dad, a man of few words, answers each question with precision. He can say more in a couple of paragraphs than most people would in a chapter.

He can tell you the exact date he started his first job at 18, and name every colleague he had. He talks about his dad a lot, and the sort of guy he was. In many ways, he's subtly describing himself.

He told a story about his granny, and how she fell ill the week before the entire family was due to emigrate to New Zealand. The move never happened. On first read I felt sad for him — until I realised that if it had happened, he'd never have met my mum, and I would never have been born.

My mum brings longer answers to the table. More emotion, less filter. Each answer usually comes with a photo she's dug out of a shoebox somewhere. She talks about her mum a lot, and it's become apparent to me how young and inexperienced she was when she had me and my siblings. I always thought she was a strong woman who knew exactly what she was doing.

She told a story about her best friend when she was 10, a girl called Yvonne. Mum's family suddenly moved away one day, and she hasn't seen or heard from Yvonne in 50 years. I wonder if Yvonne remembers my mum in the same way?

Then there's my mother-in-law. The most sceptical woman I know. Normally you'll get one-word replies from her by text, but on Tell Me she can talk for hours. Every answer comes by voice. She doesn't do the dates and details my parents do — but honestly, voice is the best type of response of all. Unfiltered, raw, and it captures her emotion and her personality exactly.

She talks about my late father-in-law Alan a lot. I can tell she misses him. In fact, my wife summed up Tell Me perfectly when she said: "I wish I'd had this when dad was here. The stories he'd have been able to tell."

And at that point it hit me — that's exactly why I'm building this.

On their own, each answer is a little bit of insight. A thought. A wow moment. Something to make you smile. But collectively, I'm building a family heirloom, a couple of answers at a time. Something to treasure for the rest of our lives. And honestly, even if no one else ever signs up, Tell Me has already done its job — for me, at least. But I think there's a Yvonne, a New Zealand, an Alan in every family — just waiting for someone to ask.

Questions arrive by WhatsApp, email or our own dedicated Storyteller app. If your parent can answer a text, they can answer a Tell Me question. There's nothing to download, and it's as simple as it can be. The first ten stories are free, if you'd like to try it.

And even if you never use Tell Me at all — ask your parents something this week. You've no idea what's sitting there waiting.