My wonderful dad, Bob, hadn't really had a day of illness in his life apart from a tendency to have headaches. He worked abroad and so had an amazing tan 12 months of the year and looked like the picture of health. He was one of those people that made you smile. He brought sunshine and laughter into the room and you couldn't help but love him.

The headaches had started to become more frequent in Christmas 1996 but he brushed them off. In May 1997, when he was away working, we got a call that he was ill and he was being flown home. I met him off the plane and I knew that my life had changed in that moment. He looked like he'd had a stroke. Actually, it was a malignant brain tumour. It was broken to us at 3am in the morning, "brain tumour, inoperable, 9 months."

We looked after him at home, my mum, brother, and I. He died on December 6th at the age of 59, 3 weeks before his 60th birthdayand life was never the same again.

Hospice of the Good Shepherd helped us as a family. They helped us with advice, equipment, and care. Dad was meant to go for respite care to the Inpatient Unit but died before he could be admitted. The Hospice is a wonderful place that brings such love, care and help. Going into the Hospice is like being gathered up into a huge hug. If me trotting around a dance floor like an overripe Shetland pony can raise money to help even one family cope and get the care they need then I'll be happy. I may not be Ginger Rogers, but I'll try my very hardest.

The Hospice of the Good Shepherd provides its services free of charge to its patients and costs £5.4 million to run each year with just 17% of the funding received coming from statutory sources. The remaining 83% is raised from a range of fundraising activities and the support of the generous local community in Cheshire. In addition, they raise money through their local charity shops and weekly lottery.