Looking Back, Flying Forward: Reflections on Another Year

Happy New Year!

The festive bustle has ended. The grandchildren have returned home, the wrapping paper is gone, and the house is peaceful again.

In January’s quiet, I find myself, as always, checking my instruments, reviewing last year’s flight log, and plotting the course ahead.

It has been nearly seven years since my diagnosis. Seven years. If you had told me back then that I would still be here, writing to you, embracing new technology, and travelling to conferences, I might not have believed you.

But here I am. Still me. Still thinking, feeling, and caring deeply about our shared journey.

Reflections on 2025

Reflecting on the past year, I am grateful and reignited in my advocacy. In 2025, I worked to push boundaries—personal and societal.

One highlight was attending the UK Dementia Congress in Manchester. I came away absolutely buzzing. Being in a room with people who "get it", researchers, clinicians, and, most importantly, fellow pioneers living with dementia—reminded me we are not alone in this battle. The energy reaffirmed my belief that together, we are a force to be reckoned with.

I've made new friends over the last year, and renewed friendships with old comrades. I've been invited to contribute to some wonderful podcasts and webinars. I've engaged in a lot of research (although the lumber puncture at Addenbrooke's Hospital was a little uncomfortable). I've had a lot of fun co-presenting a regular comedy workshop, and getting involved in lots of local community activities.

I also found great joy last year in satisfying my natural curiosity. As an old RAF aero-engineer and systems analyst, I’ve never been one to shy away from new tools.

Writing about embracing A.I. and discovering how Windows accessibility features can support our independence has been a revelation. These aren't just "tech toys"; they're lifelines that help us stay connected and confident when the fog rolls in.

Of course, it hasn't all been smooth flying. I’ve written about the indignity of the DVLA assessment process and the frustration of feeling excluded from decisions about our own futures. But even in those challenges, I’ve found purpose. Every time we speak up—whether it’s about "true co-production" or the care we deserve—we chip away at the stigma.

Charting the Course for 2026

So, what are the orders for the year ahead?

I want us to move beyond "nice to have." I want 2026 to be the year where our voices are not just invited to the table as a token gesture but are instrumental in building the table itself.

To my friends living with dementia: keep using your voice. Whether you are writing poetry, navigating the digital world, or simply sharing your story over a cup of tea, you are making a difference. Do not let the "festive fog" or the daily challenges dim your light.

To the researchers, policy-makers, and innovators: be brave. Don't just design for us; build with us. Listen to the "Human Library" of our experiences.

We have so much knowledge to offer if you are willing to turn the page.

My call to action for everyone reading this is simple: let’s each connect with someone who may need support, learn a new technology that helps with daily living, and actively challenge an assumption about dementia by starting a conversation, sharing resources, or offering your time.

Together, these concrete steps can make 2026 the year of connection.

My navigation systems might be changing, but I am still flying. I hope you’ll fly alongside me for another year.

Chocks away!