What do you see?

Well, what do you see when you look at this picture? A beautiful little girl, carefree, smiling, fresh from a bath and ready for bed, holding her favourite soft toy. Look a little closer and the background isn't a normal room, maybe a hospital room instead? Does that change your perception?

This is the photo that went on Steve's facebook page when he had to announce Isi's death. This is the photo that I put on UKScrappers to do the same. This is the photo that was printed in the order of service for her funeral. This is one of the last photos I took of Isi before her operation on 6 September 2011 from which she never woke up. This is the photo that made Steve cry when I came back from the hospital after her death and uploaded it because he wasn't there that night but looking after our other two daughters and he hadn't seen it.

This is the last record I have of Isi being her normal self, and for a while I hated this photo. Well, not hated exactly, but I couldn't look at it again afterwards. It reminded me too much of her death - it was her 'poster child' picture for her passing. So I'm going to start here.

I remember this night so well, but that memory may fade so I will put it down now. We got to the hospital in the afternoon, unpacked a bit, faffed for a bit more. The doctor wanted yet another blood test that we had done on Friday. I asked why as we had the results from Friday's test but the doctor said it had to be done the night before. I asked him why it had to be done on Friday as well but I didn't get a satisfactory answer and that pissed me off. You see, Isi hated blood tests - she had so many during her life and so often they had problems finding a vein because she was pale and small that she was scared of them. I hated the thought that we had put her through unnecessary pain, But, we got over that, played with all the toys we had brought to the hospital (apart from her chess set as that was daddy's game!), poked around a meal that she didn't like, ate a yoghurt instead and then had a long bath which she enjoyed. It was in the special bathroom at the hospital and it was more comfortable for her than our setup at home. After this special bath, we were confined pretty much to our room and I told her I wanted to take her picture again. Now, she loved having her picture taken (ironic really as because of her blindness photos meant nothing to her) so she smiled and even though she wasn't facing the camera and it is not a perfectly composed shot, I like to think it shows how easily she could find something good in a bad situation. She was scared of her operation and in hospital again, which she hated. But the simple pleasures of a nice bath, some time with mum just playing, a strawberry yogurt and having her picture taken brought her huge smile back to her face. The smile that everyone commented on, the smile which could (and I know this is such a cliche) light up a room. I miss that smile, I miss her but I think the thing that I will take from this photo is to embrace the little pleasures in life. Those small moments that make you smile are worth more than gold as they keep you going and they make the unbearable bearable.

Thank you Isi.