Sometimes you stumble across a thought you scribbled years ago, or a photo stashed away in a file – and seeing it again, you realise you only half-understood it at the time. Suddenly now, you see its real significance.

Google helpfully reminded me today of this photo. I took it many years ago, when Lena’s Alzheimer’s was just a faint whisper in my ear. I remember the morning so well. It was a Sunday, just a couple of days after the two of us had been at the London Olympics. The weather had been beautiful for days, so we’d decided to get up really early — before sunrise — and take the two-mile walk to the lake. What a perfect place for breakfast!

How could we have known that before long, dementia would fence us in, denying us our freedom and precious shared adventures like this?

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Today I’m standing at the lakeside alone, in the shadows. But it’s a new dawn and the opposite bank over there is already bathed in sunlight. Can I get there? There are no obstacles in my way now, but can I still fly across the water like I used to? It’s been a long time since I was able to spread my wings. But there’s a voice right next to me.

— Of course you can. Why not?

And then there was that plan of mine — The Care Combine.  I wanted to help the millions of people feeling shut in by age or illness — just like we were — to get back their freedom too. To put sunshine back into their lives. I haven’t worked on the plan for years. Is it too late now?

—  I thought it was a good plan. So when will you start?