Sample entry, made up · Tom
Sunday, 7 June
Who believed in me before I did, and what did they see?
My grandmother, I think. When I was eleven I spent a whole summer drawing the view from her kitchen window, the same pear tree over and over, and she pinned every single drawing to the fridge. Even the bad ones. Especially the bad ones.
I used to think she was just being kind. Writing this, I'm not so sure. I think she saw that I could sit with one thing for a long time without getting bored, and that it mattered to me to get it right. I still do that, at work, with people. I just never connected it to her until now.
I should tell my sister about this. She remembers the fridge.
Sample entry, made up · Marta
Wednesday, 17 June, late
What disappeared from me when I learned to manage without help?
Asking. I've actually forgotten how to do it. Last week at the shop I couldn't reach the top shelf and I stood there for about a minute rather than ask the man next to me.
When Mum got ill I was fourteen, and after that everything was on me. I was proud of that. I still am, a bit.
But something else went too. The girl who could just cry and someone would come and hold her. I don't know if you can get her back. Maybe I'll start with the top shelf.