I will never forget the day I was told my dad had MND. I was only 15 and my brother was nine.

I remember I was at my auntie’s house at the time.

When my mum rang, my auntie looked quite shocked and worried. I wondered what was wrong but really didn’t take much notice.

I was sitting by the computer when my auntie came into the room and asked me to face her. I knew something was up but I wasn’t expecting what she was about to tell me.

She said my dad has been diagnosed with MND which is an incurable disease. I didn’t really understand what it meant, so I looked it up on the computer. As I was reading the symptoms I was thinking how much it sounds like my dad.

As the weeks went past my dad got weak, he lost the use of his legs, then his arms and shortly his speech went. We all tried to be there for him but we didn’t know how to help.

It didn’t really sink in just how quick time goes by, and before long dad had to go into a caring home. We went to see him as much as possible, and it hurt to have to leave him. He had been a hard working man before he came ill and all of a sudden he was depending on other people which I know he hated.

One day I got a phone call that I dreaded, my dad had died. I didn’t know what to do, I don’t think it ever sank in that he was going to die and it still hasn’t now, nearly a year on. I wish I could have made every day count but I know he is at peace.