I was 33 when I learned my father had terminal cancer. I felt far too young, although I was acutely aware some would consider me lucky to have had him around for as long as I did. The truth is, you are never old enough to lose a parent.

I remember the maelstrom of emotions that accompanied the news, and recognised the echoes from when my son had died, three years previously. Grief (for grief begins long in advance of someone’s death) has many bedfellows. Guilt: why them, not me? Fear: can I handle this? Helplessness: what on earth can I do to make this easier for everyone?

When I began writing, it was these emotions I wanted to explore. The way grief changes us; the way death and trauma affect our lives for so long after we have lost someone. My debut novel, I Let You Go, begins with a hit-and-run that kills a young child. We follow the story of the detectives, searching for the driver; and of Jenna Gray, who struggles to come to terms with what has happened. She runs from her grief and begins a new life, but is ultimately forced to confront what has happened.

The book became a bestseller, hitting the Sunday Times top ten for twelve weeks, and winning the readers’ vote in the Richard & Judy summer bookclub. I have met readers from all over the world, been shortlisted for national awards and sold more than half a million copies. But the most overwhelming part of this success has been the letters, emails and tweets I’ve received from readers who have experienced loss. I have sobbed at my keyboard, reading stories from women who have lost children; from men who have lost their wives. Grief, whilst experienced in a myriad of ways, is universal, and binds us together like no other emotion.

When Lawrence Home Nursing asked if I would give up an evening to speak about my writing, and about my time as a police officer, I didn’t hesitate. I remembered those feelings of helplessness when my father was dying, and was struck by how much this local charity do to alleviate this feelings. Allowing someone to die in their own home, surrounded by home comforts, and by the people they love, is an enormous gift, and one I am honoured to support.

There are many charities with calls on our time, and on our purse. Government funding is hard to secure, and so often directed towards those larger, national charities whose names come first to mind when we consider who to support with our fun runs, our bake-offs, and our direct debits. I have huge admiration for local charities like Lawrence Home Nursing Team , which supports patients in Chipping Norton and the surrounding villages, and which is almost entirely run by volunteers. The job they do is an arduous one, and a vital one.

My father spent his last few days in a hospice. It was a wonderful place, where the staff were kind and gentle, and where nothing was too much trouble. It was right for us, and he was comfortable right up to the moment he closed his eyes for the last time. For many people being away from home at the end of their life is deeply distressing, making what is already a terrifying situation even harder to bear. For these people, Lawrence Home Nursing Team is a lifeline.

Join us on Friday night. Come and hear me talk about books, about life in uniform, about my own loves and losses. Drink tea, eat cake, ask questions. Bring friends. Have a wonderful evening in Bloxham, and know that your contribution is helping people find peace in their final days. Come for someone you’ve lost, or for someone you’ve loved. But please come. It would mean a lot to me.

Clare Mackintosh is a former police inspector, and the author of Sunday Times bestseller I Let You Go. Her second novel, I See You, will be published by Sphere in July 2016. She is speaking in support of Lawrence Home Nursing Team at Godswell Park, Church Street, Bloxham, tomorrow. Doors open at 7pm. Tickets are £12 and include wine, tea and cake. Telephone 01608 684475. www.lawrencehomenursing.org.