Tara on MND, loss and why Doddie Aid matters

Motor neuron disease (MND) is devastating for everyone it touches. It doesn’t just harm the person diagnosed but has a devastating ripple effect on their friends and family. To help explain the crucial importance of raising money to fund research, our brilliant Ambassador Tara Carrick, shared the pain and trauma her family went through as her mum Claire, was dying with the disease.

Tara described the final stages of her mother’s illness as “the worst experience of my life.” By sharing what her family went through in her mum’s last weeks, she wants to draw attention to the brutal reality of what MND does, and explains why taking part in Doddie Aid is so important in raising money to find a cure for the disease.

“This disease doesn’t just happen to one person,” Tara said. “It happens to whole families. People often ask me what they can do to help - the first thing is to sign up for Doddie Aid. It gives meaning to those we have lost, honours those who have fought this disease, and takes us closer to a future where no family has to go through what we did.”

Tara’s mum, Claire, died last year after being diagnosed with MND in July 2024. Tara said her family’s experience of caring for her mum really hammered home how much of the burden of MND can fall on relatives - from managing appointments and equipment to witnessing moments “nobody would want to see.”

The first signs of Claire’s MND appeared in January 2024, when she developed slurred speech. Months of tests followed, and Tara initially assumed it might be a stroke. “MND never crossed my mind,” she said.

Claire’s diagnosis came in July that year, while Tara, who turned professional in 2021, was competing in Sweden. Her family - dad Stuart, and older sister Gina, waited until she returned home to tell her.

“That’s what Doddie had,” she remembered thinking. “I knew instantly it was a death sentence. You never think it will happen to you - and then boom, life will never be the same again.”

Tara said she cried in front of her mum only once, early on - and that Claire’s response shaped how the family coped with the disease.

“She told me, ‘I only get upset because you get upset. Life doesn’t end with my diagnosis and let’s not allow it to take more than it already has.’ From then on, we were joyful and happy. That’s how mum wanted to live. The switch flicked.”

Claire didn’t want to know every detail of what lay ahead, but Tara felt driven to understand what was coming.

“Knowing what’s coming was my coping mechanism,” she recounted. “I wanted to get ahead of it.”

Tara described her mum as “the truest heart”, someone who “never complained about anything,” - even as MND took hold.

Claire had worked as a riding instructor before spending 30 years as an additional support needs assistant, working one-to-one with autistic children.

“There’s a tragic irony in it,” Tara remarked. “She taught people how to speak and communicate - and then she lost her own voice.”

Claire was also central to Tara’s golf career, alongside her dad Stuart, with both of them taking her to junior competitions and practice, then travelling to tournaments, supporting her through the pressures of elite sport, and cheering her on every step of the way.

“She came to all my tournaments,” Tara said. “She was always there. She was the chief of snacks, juice - everything.”

After the diagnosis, Tara wanted to stop competing to focus on caring for her mum, but Claire pushed her to keep playing so they could continue sharing trips and time together. “By me continuing to live my dreams,” Tara acknowledged, “she could live hers.”

As Claire’s MND progressed, it quickly took away her mum’s ability to do everyday things. First talking, then swallowing were lost, then she had to move to soft foods, needed a feeding tube and lost any movement in her hands. All this time her exhaustion was growing.

Before MND took hold, Tara described her mum as being “strong, bold. She took no nonsense from anybody. But this disease takes everything. It makes somebody unrecognisable.”

Tara said Claire’s final year also exposed gaps in how the health system deals with MND, particularly when other illnesses strike. After developing pneumonia in June 2025, Claire spent nine days in hospital.

“We sat in an ambulance outside for two and a half hours, then for 10 hours we were in A&E with somebody who has a terminal disease. That makes it so much more traumatic.”

Tara believes there needs to be greater awareness in acute care settings of how MND affects breathing, swallowing and recovery from respiratory infections, and said the emergency care her mum experienced added distress that could have been avoided.

“It’s bad enough knowing there’s no cure,” Tara continued. “Knowing the care, knowledge and understanding of MND isn’t there for everybody makes it worse. It isn’t good enough.”

Tara said that whilst research and the search for effective treatments must remain the ultimate goal, families also need specialist support along the road. She believes this should include clear pathways and spaces designed for people with MND, so they are not repeatedly forced into crisis care.

“A cure has to be the ultimate aim, but it will take time to get there. In the meantime there are other, equally important things. People with that diagnosis need to know there’s somewhere they can go.”

Tara wanted to praise the Margaret Kerr palliative care ward at Borders General Hospital, where Claire was cared for after a second bout of pneumonia. She described it as a place of expertise and calm in her mother’s final days.

“My dad had to shout from the rooftops to get her in, but when she did go in, it was different,” she said. “Peace, tranquility - they knew what to do. It didn’t change how difficult those final moments were.

“There came a moment when her smile, which had been a constant through everything, was gone. She smiled through it all, then it stopped.”

Claire died on a Sunday, with Tara describing the experience as cruel and traumatic for families, as well as for the person living with the disease.

“There is nothing peaceful,” Tara recalled. “It’s cruel, and we’ll take what we witnessed with us forever.”

Despite the pain and the trauma endured through Claire’s MND, Tara has one bright, defining memory that shines above all the others - her wedding last year. Tara married her husband, Angus, on 29 March 2025. After the diagnosis, she said one of her first thoughts was that her mum might not see her get married. In the months before the big day, she said Claire seemed to “peak”, holding steady long enough to attend.

Claire danced all night and even managed an outfit change, wearing sparkly red trainers with her second dress of the day.

“The joy in her face, she was beaming. I was the bride, but she stole the show. It’s my favourite day ever - such an honour - and I’ll never forget it.”

Now, Tara is determined to represent families living with MND, and to help raise awareness and funds for both research and better practical support.

“People like my mum can’t die for nothing. There has to be something positive and good from the suffering. If that’s raising money and awareness that takes us closer to a cure, or makes some difference, then that must be it.”

And so, Tara is urging everyone to take part in Doddie Aid, our biggest fundraising campaign, to have fun, raise money and make a difference.