Ty Hafan

For Noah Tyler

Ali Johnson

Ali Johnson

My Story

I am running for one of the most precious people I ever had the privilege of meeting. Noah Tyler. Noah is the son of one of his closest friends Hywel. I have known him and his brother for Huw for over 15 years. They are MY people. Noah sadly passed away at Ty Hafan on December 23, 2011. He was a fighter till the end. 

The story below is from his Hywel and speaks of the amazing work of Ty Hafan. 

A Place of Love, Care, and Unwavering Support: Why Ty Hafan Means So Much to Us

When we were first referred to Ty Hafan in June 2011, we had no idea how much this incredible place would come to mean to us. At the time, we were parents to Noah—a wonderful little boy with complex medical needs. Like many families in our situation, our lives were a delicate balancing act of love, care, and relentless responsibility. But our first visit to Ty Hafan changed everything.

The Gift of Just Being Parents

That first weekend at Ty Hafan wasn’t just about respite for Noah—it was respite for us, too. For the first time, we could experience what it was like to just be his parents, not his carers. The dedicated nurses and staff took over his medical needs, the strict schedules, the constant monitoring. We didn’t have to worry about medications or meal times—we could just be with him, laugh with him, hold him, and cherish those moments without the weight of responsibility pressing down on us.

Ty Hafan wasn’t just a place of care; it was a place of understanding. The compassion and support we received extended beyond Noah’s care—it wrapped around us as a family. I still remember my first conversation with other dads there. There was no pressure, no awkwardness—just a quiet understanding. We didn’t have to explain our reality; we were all in the same boat, and that made it okay to just be ourselves.

A Place of Comfort in the Hardest Moments

Later that year, in September, Noah’s condition worsened. We were told he only had weeks left. We were transferred to Ty Hafan for palliative, end-of-life care. We arrived with heavy hearts, expecting to say goodbye within days.

But the atmosphere at Ty Hafan worked magic. The stress and constant alarms of a hospital were replaced with peace, warmth, and quiet. Noah, in a way, could finally relax. And because of that, we were gifted nine more precious weeks with him—weeks we never thought we would have.

Those weeks were filled with love, laughter, and the unwavering support of Ty Hafan’s team. The nurses didn’t just care for Noah; they cared for us too. They helped us navigate the emotional rollercoaster of those final days. We had daily visits from doctors who tailored his medications to keep him comfortable. And even then, in the hardest moments of our lives, Ty Hafan gave us something unexpected: community.

The Start of the Ty Hafan Dads Group

During that time, I connected deeply with the Dads Liaison, a remarkable man who understood that dads often need a different kind of support. Out of those conversations, we created the Ty Hafan Dads Group, a space for fathers to come together—not just as parents, but as individuals navigating an impossible journey.

This group, which started over a simple meal in Cardiff Bay, has now become a lifeline for so many. It’s a place where dads can talk, share, and just exist without explanation. Because sometimes, the hardest thing isn’t the situation itself—it’s feeling like you have to go through it alone. Ty Hafan made sure we never had to.

A Family No One Wants to Join—But Are Forever Grateful For

Noah passed away at Ty Hafan on December 23, 2011, but our connection to this place has never ended. They continue to support us, check in on us, and provide a space where we are always welcome.

I still speak to Dan, the Dads Group coordinator, almost every day. His no-nonsense approach, his genuine care, and his deep understanding of what dads go through has been invaluable. Ty Hafan is more than a hospice; it is a family. A family no one ever wants to be part of—but one that you’re unbelievably grateful for when you need it most.

Why Your Support Matters

Every step you take, every pound you raise, helps families like ours. Ty Hafan is not just about providing care—it’s about providing time, dignity, love, and support to families facing the hardest moments of their lives.

So, if you're running, donating, or supporting in any way, thank you. You're making a difference in ways you can’t even imagine.

 

Ty Hafan

Raising for:

Ty Hafan
124%

Funded

  • Target
    £2,000
  • Raised so far
    £2,490
  • Number of donors
    104

My Story

I am running for one of the most precious people I ever had the privilege of meeting. Noah Tyler. Noah is the son of one of his closest friends Hywel. I have known him and his brother for Huw for over 15 years. They are MY people. Noah sadly passed away at Ty Hafan on December 23, 2011. He was a fighter till the end. 

The story below is from his Hywel and speaks of the amazing work of Ty Hafan. 

A Place of Love, Care, and Unwavering Support: Why Ty Hafan Means So Much to Us

When we were first referred to Ty Hafan in June 2011, we had no idea how much this incredible place would come to mean to us. At the time, we were parents to Noah—a wonderful little boy with complex medical needs. Like many families in our situation, our lives were a delicate balancing act of love, care, and relentless responsibility. But our first visit to Ty Hafan changed everything.

The Gift of Just Being Parents

That first weekend at Ty Hafan wasn’t just about respite for Noah—it was respite for us, too. For the first time, we could experience what it was like to just be his parents, not his carers. The dedicated nurses and staff took over his medical needs, the strict schedules, the constant monitoring. We didn’t have to worry about medications or meal times—we could just be with him, laugh with him, hold him, and cherish those moments without the weight of responsibility pressing down on us.

Ty Hafan wasn’t just a place of care; it was a place of understanding. The compassion and support we received extended beyond Noah’s care—it wrapped around us as a family. I still remember my first conversation with other dads there. There was no pressure, no awkwardness—just a quiet understanding. We didn’t have to explain our reality; we were all in the same boat, and that made it okay to just be ourselves.

A Place of Comfort in the Hardest Moments

Later that year, in September, Noah’s condition worsened. We were told he only had weeks left. We were transferred to Ty Hafan for palliative, end-of-life care. We arrived with heavy hearts, expecting to say goodbye within days.

But the atmosphere at Ty Hafan worked magic. The stress and constant alarms of a hospital were replaced with peace, warmth, and quiet. Noah, in a way, could finally relax. And because of that, we were gifted nine more precious weeks with him—weeks we never thought we would have.

Those weeks were filled with love, laughter, and the unwavering support of Ty Hafan’s team. The nurses didn’t just care for Noah; they cared for us too. They helped us navigate the emotional rollercoaster of those final days. We had daily visits from doctors who tailored his medications to keep him comfortable. And even then, in the hardest moments of our lives, Ty Hafan gave us something unexpected: community.

The Start of the Ty Hafan Dads Group

During that time, I connected deeply with the Dads Liaison, a remarkable man who understood that dads often need a different kind of support. Out of those conversations, we created the Ty Hafan Dads Group, a space for fathers to come together—not just as parents, but as individuals navigating an impossible journey.

This group, which started over a simple meal in Cardiff Bay, has now become a lifeline for so many. It’s a place where dads can talk, share, and just exist without explanation. Because sometimes, the hardest thing isn’t the situation itself—it’s feeling like you have to go through it alone. Ty Hafan made sure we never had to.

A Family No One Wants to Join—But Are Forever Grateful For

Noah passed away at Ty Hafan on December 23, 2011, but our connection to this place has never ended. They continue to support us, check in on us, and provide a space where we are always welcome.

I still speak to Dan, the Dads Group coordinator, almost every day. His no-nonsense approach, his genuine care, and his deep understanding of what dads go through has been invaluable. Ty Hafan is more than a hospice; it is a family. A family no one ever wants to be part of—but one that you’re unbelievably grateful for when you need it most.

Why Your Support Matters

Every step you take, every pound you raise, helps families like ours. Ty Hafan is not just about providing care—it’s about providing time, dignity, love, and support to families facing the hardest moments of their lives.

So, if you're running, donating, or supporting in any way, thank you. You're making a difference in ways you can’t even imagine.