In February 2004 my mum was diagnosed with cancer. With characteristic stubbornness she refused give in to it, but  six months later she died. She was just 57. 

Those six months were horrible – for her, for my dad, for me, and for other people who knew and loved her. She experienced unspeakable pain and discomfort.  This story is about how the amazing St Helena Hospice helped us all through the bleakest days I’ve ever known. Please read it, and then hit the donate button, because the help they give each year to thousands of people like me and my mum is life changing – literally.

I guess it's never easy to watch someone who brought you into this world gradually slip away from you – words left unspoken, moments suddenly written out of both your futures etc - but when you see that person in real pain, gradually stripped of reason and their dignity, it’s heart breaking. You feel powerless. 

And I did. Feel powerless that is. And clueless. And bewildered. But all the time I knew that somehow I had to carry on. That's where St. Helena Hospice came in. I will be forever grateful to their wonderful hospice at home team, who each day and night saw my mum through the roughest of times, and made me feel a bit better, a bit more prepared, a bit stronger. 

They were lots of things: able to tell me what to expect to happen to my mum and what to do when it did; explain to me how the whole registering a death thing works.They also, I'm sure, saved my mum's life - for a few days longer at least - on at least one occasion. And they made A LOT of tea!

But more than anything else perhaps, the most important thing was that they were kind - to my mum, obviously, but to me too. At a time when - perhaps more than ever before in either of our lives - we both needed someone to look after us, that's what they did. It was little things - a doctor putting an extra hole into my mum's watch strap so that it fitted round her by then tiny wrist; a nurse reassuring me that, yes, my mum would know I was rubbing hand cream into her newly manicured nails even though she was unconscious (we did a lot of manicures during that time, my mum and me!). It made a world of difference to me. 

That was all 10 years ago. A long time ago I suppose. But there seems to be something about round numbers, and it being 10 years, has 'tripped me up' royally this year. So at some points over the last 3 months it's felt like it was only yesterday that all this was happening; the emotion has been almost as raw as it was back then, and I've been struggling to find a way through it. Grief eh? Bloody round numbers.  

But once again, St. Helena's has come up trumps, offered a way through. Matt and I discovered this sponsored bike ride, and I decided this was a practical channel for the grief and weirdness. So, now he's roped pretty much all his family in (well, 3 brothers and his dad!), and they will be coming from all corners of the country (well, Leeds and London!) to join him on the cycle ride, each riding between 24 and 56 miles each. A dodgy back (and a dodgy bike!) means I can't do the ride itself, so my job is to ask you lovely people to donate what you can to this properly wonderful organisation. Oh, and to make tea and cakes for the finish line. 

So please, please, please do give whatever you can. These guys do amazing work, and help hundreds, probably thousands, of people each year. We're aiming to raise £500 - and whatever you guys give, me and my dad will double. So every £1 you give counts as £2 - and even more if you can gift aid it!

Thanks so much - and I hope I didn't make you cry when you read this. 

Julia x

(Here's the practical bit...) Donating through JustGiving is simple, fast and totally secure. Your details are safe with JustGiving – they’ll never sell them on or send unwanted emails. Once you donate, they’ll send your money directly to the charity. So it’s the most efficient way to donate – saving time and cutting costs for the charity.