My Mother Sylvia looked after my Father, he had various health issues but Mum looked after him until he had to go into a Nursing Home. When Dad died in 2019 Mum then started showing signs of Dementia.
The last two years have been difficult as she insisted on staying in her own home with Carers calling twice a day.
After a fall she was taken into hospital, then a Nursing Home, where she died in March 2026.
It is a cruel disease and it affects all the family. We loved her so much, but in the end she had no quality of life and did not recognise us.
She is now with Dad and at Peace. Her Care from Home Carers, Hospital Staff to Nursing Home Staff was kind, considerate and professional.
Out thanks go to all the wonderful staff that look after our families whilst suffering from Dementia.

I wear my badge with pride for my mum who lives with dementia from been a independent lady living on her own since my dad passed 5 years ago to been in a care home and struggling to remember who I am
Dementia strips you of your memory’s and dignity
We still laugh and be happy but this disease is so cruel please support Alzheimer’s society

When my Father died we noticed some strange behaviours of my Mum. It’s like when my Dad was around he unknowingly hid mums dementia, they were a team, Dad didn’t notice anything was a miss with Mum, old age and that was that. She was a very kind Mum and would do anything for anybody, she brought up my Sister Julie and me and we were smothered with love. She lived just up the road, about 400m from our Cottage here in West Cornwall, my Wife Rachael who was an absolutely star would make 5 meals and I would carry one up for Mum. Our two Daughters were 15 and 13 at this time and after some near misses with using a fork in the toaster to retrieve the toast, leaving non food items on the hob with hob on high and getting a taxi and disappearing we decided to rent out our cottage and move in with her. This was a very very hard thing we had taken on but we wanted to protect her from herself. Many unusual events took place and my Wife and Daughters were brilliant with it all. We made the house safer and I put alarms in place so that we knew if she had jumped out of the bed at 2am. Everything that could be done was done but alas over time she had a fall and broke her hip and that put even more strain on the family. We did get her home from hospital but walking was now very difficult for her so she needed lots of support from us. She thought that I was my Dad John most days but that’s just a compliment as he was a great chap and one day she told us that she’d had a difficult birth with me and they flew up from Treliske Hospital to Derriford Hospital 60 miles away in a helicopter, we did laugh later on when she had gone to bed, bless her, she believed it! We would take Mum out to various visits and gave her the best times we could give her until she had to go into care as we were broken trying to look after her. Dementia and Alzheimer’s are terrible things as you lose your loved one repeatedly for many years before their passing. Miss you Mum x

I wear my forget me not as a dedication to my grandad. He was the most honest, loving and caring man, absolutely obsessed with my daughter and our adventures he always wanted to know where we were and what we were doing so now he can come along with us and watch from above. I’m grateful that his dementia didn’t affect his ability to know who we were and that we could keep those very fond memory’s right till the end, for him it was more places and disorientation but that only made our adventures more interesting. We shall love and miss you forever grandad xxx

Our wonderful mum developed Alzheimer’s when she was 80, it got worse quickly during the isolation of lockdown. As devastating as it was, watching her confusion grow, and her fear, we were lucky, as she didn’t forget who we were and she never lost the twinkle in her eye or her laugh. Support is so crucial during this frightening and emotional time.

My mum was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s at 68, and coming to terms with that diagnosis was one of the hardest things I have ever faced. At just 40, I suddenly found myself becoming a carer for the most important person in my life. Some days are good, and some days are incredibly hard. There are days when the tears come without warning, and others when her smile feels like a gift that stays a little longer.

My heart struggled to catch up with what my eyes were seeing. Watching someone you love change in front of you is painful in ways words can barely describe. But when I look at my beautiful mum, I see someone who still needs me there — to smile, to care, to reassure her, and to be her voice when she cannot find her own.

Dementia is a cruel disease. It slowly takes pieces of the person you love, but I have learned something important: it cannot take away the love between us. That love is still there every day, in my mum’s eyes and in her smile. That connection remains, even in the quiet moments.

I want others to know that although this illness is extremely hard to accept, the person you love is still there, even when it feels like they are slipping away. When we focus on the moments we still have, we begin to see more of them and hold onto them more tightly.

Don’t let Alzheimer’s steal those moments — it has already taken enough.

Sending love and strength to all carers and families out there. You are not alone on this journey. 💜

My brother John Morley at 80 years old is suffering with Alzeimers and after being a very successful business man in Management training and in his spare time bred race horses.
In his younger years he was a football referee playing at Wembley and various countries like Japan and Russia and was very well thought of .
This is a terrible disease that takes everything away from the person leaving a void.im very proud of my brother and happy to help in any way I can .
My love to all carers especially my sister in law Joan who is a very kind loving patient person ❤️ photo of my brother with his frandaughter Kayla (his number 1 fan)

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.