I wear my Forget Me Not badge in memory of my wonderful Granny. She was a Brownie leader, ran a nursery, helped lead worship at her local church, raised two children and loved her four grandchildren (Cornish through and through, we were all boys and maids with a strong and loving accent - and always trying to slip £5 in our pockets for treats).

She was a wonderful person and it was devastating to see dementia take her away from us so quickly - it felt like a total landslide. I hope that by wearing the Forget Me Not badge, even more people will become aware of Alzheimer's Society's work and help beat dementia for good.

I wear my Forget Me Not for my grandad. He was incredibly smart and funny, and he taught me so much—especially about budgeting and spreadsheets. Some of my favourite memories are of the little shed at the bottom of his garden where he used to do all his paperwork. I would sit beside him while he worked, watching carefully and asking questions because I always wanted to learn more from him.
When he was diagnosed with dementia, it was heartbreaking to see that spark for knowledge slowly begin to fade. The man who had always been so sharp and curious started to struggle with things that had once come so easily to him. During this time, he began writing, something he had never really shown an interest in before. I think it was his way of trying to hold on to himself and stay present.
Watching the gradual deterioration was incredibly difficult. He became sad and confused, and it was painful for our family to witness. One of the hardest parts was that he often forgot that his wife, my grandma, had already passed away. He would ask where she was, and every time it broke both my mum’s heart and mine.
When he finally passed away, it was deeply sad, but there was also a sense of peace knowing that he was no longer suffering. I like to think of him reunited with my grandma again. He could make her laugh like no one else.
When I wear my Forget Me Not, it reminds me that we will never forget him, the love he gave us, and the lessons he taught me.

My Mum, Zeta, was 60 when she was diagnosed with Young Onset Vascular Dementia. She was far too young and so was I.
The whole family was scared, and we hadn't got a clue what the future looked like. I know that she was frightened, but she wouldn't talk to us about it, so we gently and respectfully cared for her, loved her and protected her.
We were her comfort at the beginning and her voice towards the end, and it was after she died that we found dozens of slips of paper hidden all over the house with our names and ages and phone numbers on. She had been determined not to forget who we were and where to find us. 15 years after her death, I still reach for the phone just to chat over my day, and somehow I don't think that will ever change.
My Forget Me Not badge is always for her. It's her story of courage, and my story of really, really missing her.