I didn’t write this book because I thought I had a remarkable story to tell. I wrote it because, like so many families, we lived through the slow, painful journey of dementia and the long goodbye that comes with it. My dad was a wonderful man and, like many daughters, I absolutely adored him. Watching that strong, funny, capable person slowly fade was one of the hardest things my family has ever faced.

During those years, and especially in the final weeks of his life, I found myself wanting to record what we were going through. Not just the sadness, but the love, the strange moments of humour, the frustrations, and the quiet strength that families somehow find when they need it most. I realised that the experience of caring for someone you love – and eventually saying goodbye – is something so many people share, yet it is often lived very privately.

I wrote My Daddy’s Daughter for my dad, first and foremost. But I also wrote it for anyone who has sat beside a hospital bed, navigated the confusing world of dementia, or tried to figure out how to carry on after losing someone who meant everything to them.

If parts of this story make you cry, I hope others make you smile. Because that’s what life with my dad was like.

And that’s how I choose to remember him.