My mother, Freda, is 89 today, World Alzheimer’s Day. She lives in a mining community called Windy Nook. Her father is at the pit. She helps her mother cook and clean. She goes shopping in Newcastle, with Hilda, her cousin twice over – they are like sisters. My Dad comes round to court her. At her next birthday she says she will be 29!

In Emmer Green, here in 2011, Freda is as well looked after as I could hope.  The senior staff of her care home seem to run a tight ship and the care staff are heroes. The place is clean, the food is OK (because Freda would complain), she’s warm, dry, safe and is always pleased to see me. Most importantly she tells me the staff are kind to her. She’s not afraid anymore.

Because you see, Freda had become so very afraid, especially at night. When in ten minutes everything of the previous ten minutes is forgotten, the night never ends. She took to barricading herself in her flat. In attempting to help her live in her own home she received five hours of care a day. That’s a lot, but it is still just an expensive sticking plaster, because five hours of care a day equals nineteen hours without care. There is point where not only is keeping people in their homes not what people with Freda’s condition need, it is also more expensive than the residential care they actually need.

A fiercely independent person brought up within the self-help ethos of the Co-operative movement, Freda neither borrowed nor lent, valued her privacy and didn’t want be a bother. Work was dirty but house was always spotless. That was how we noticed something was wrong. The cleaning stopped.

Although high-profile cases of early onset dementia receive a great deal of useful attention, the fact remains such cases are rare. Alzheimer’s is overwhelmingly a disease of the elderly. The longer you live the more likely you are to get it – one in three people over 80 will encounter dementia in some form. The over 80s are disproportionately women on their own. Relatives may be many miles away, have children to look after, have busy working lives or all these together.

In Freda’s case the diagnosis was Vascular dementia, probably, Alzheimer’s, maybe. But this is angels on the head of a pin. There is so much we don’t know about dementia. But there are things we do know.

We know dementia cases are on the increase because we are living longer. In twenty years the number of people affected by the condition is set to double. As things stand it is going to cost taxpayers and families a lot more. It really is that simple, unless we change the medical landscape.

We know too that right now the (somewhat expensive) drugs don’t work. More than nine times out of ten they fail to slow onset. They also have some problematic side effects.

We know, or rather we should know, that as well as excellent care homes like Freda’s there are others where management of dementia sufferers leaves a lot to be desired.

We know that the NHS doesn’t cope well with conditions for which there is no real treatment but I was still surprised by the lack of awareness of the condition beyond those dealing with it as their specialty. The split of responsibilities between health and social care agencies doesn’t help matters, leading unseemly games of ‘pass the patient’ and ‘dodge the budget’. I’ve encountered some excellent people working in the system, but the system doesn’t help them either. Meanwhile Freda receives regular ‘customer satisfaction’ surveys she cannot hope to answer.

Most importantly we know from experience of cancer, heart disease and HIV/AIDS that investment in research makes a difference. Even though dementia costs the UK more than cancer and heart disease combined, only a fraction is invested in dementia research.

And I know it’s too late for Freda, whose condition moves on. There are now days I’m not sure she recognises me or the grandchildren she loves. The day may come when she cannot any longer speak or even move. Her body may live for some time but her mind will be dead. It’s a strange way to lose someone.

There are millions for whom it is not too late. We can help them as a nation by not any longer sweeping dementia under the carpet and investing more in research. We can force our politicians to pay attention by highlighting the issue through days like today and by raising funds. Over the next year I will be setting myself some faintly ridiculous challenges and organising some fundraising events to contribute to Alzheimer’s Research. You can find out more or contribute at www.justgiving.com/john-howarth.

Happy birthday mum.