Our dad, Chris Ridehalgh died from Progressive Supranuclear Palsy in February 2024. It is a rare condition which is very difficult to diagnose. Dad was 78 after what was a long torturous battle never any of us truly understood including dad until the last few months. In reality, it started years before which we all mistook for aging. Dad was a super fit 70 odd year old man but signs started to show. He couldn't do some simple tasks. I remember playing snooker with him in 2019 and took great pleasure in hammering him, he was useless which at the time I took great glee over but looking back it was apparent he was losing his coordination. As we went into lockdown, dad seemed to become more withdrawn. He had no interest in going into their gym at home or even going on their daily exercise walk. On our family Zoom calls, dad didn't want to sit for the entirety and would leave. His GP believed he was suffering from depression as did the family. As time passed by, there were more signs. He was struggling to get words out and other simple tasks like putting toothpaste onto his toothbrush. Mum made the decision to move down to Seaford on the East Sussex coast where my sister, Colette lived, as dad loved being by the sea in the hope it would perk him up and snap out of what we thought was depression. It soon became apparent that his illness was more sinister as his speech declined to an extent that he could no longer string any sentence together, he regularly fell and he lost the ability to read (oh - he loved to read). They diagnosed dementia but after a few months of more tests, we heard for the first time that we were dealing with something none of us had heard of, PSP. No cure, just a realisation that it will be a steady decline for dad. Eventually, he couldn't get any words out and started to suffer from excruciating pain from cramping throughout his body. He died just a few months after his diagnosis. My mum by his side throughout those years being his rock and support.

He was a brilliant man, a proud Chartered Accountant where he, alongside his 2 partners, Terry and Mike grew an accountancy practice into one of the best and most highly regarded firms in Lancashire (his words not mine). His family was everything. He married our mum, Florence in January 1968 and they had 56 happy years together. He was the best dad to me and my two sisters, Debbie and Colette. He was a brilliant Grandad of 7, Joe, Gaby, Circe, Amelie, Louis, Milson and Ariella. He gave the best advise and the most wonderful hugs and I know he was incredibly proud of all 3 of us. He believed in fairness and rarely did I hear him say anything bad about anyone and he would scoff at me when I would say I didn't like people from Blackburn, Yorkshire or Scotland even if it was always in gest at our local rivals. He had the biggest heart, a wonderful smile, was a terrible joke teller and had a kindness like no other. It is the biggest privilege of my life to call him dad.

So, in his memory, I and a few others are planning a walk - just the 43 miles around the Gower Peninsula for the PSPA charity on the 23rd and 24th May. Dad loved walking and The Gower was the last holiday we all went on as a family. I think he would have loved this walk and would certainly have come on this journey with us. Here are some details about the the PSPA charity. We would all appreciate any donation, no matter how small.

PSPA is the only UK charity dedicated to creating a better future for everyone affected by Progressive Supranuclear Palsy and Corticobasal Degeneration.

We will do this by: Providing information and support to enable families living with PSP & CBD to live their best possible lives; Improving the quality of life for people living with the condition via research and awareness raising; Putting the voice of the PSP & CBD community at the heart of what we do.