Too long

I haven't written on here for far too long. I find it painful to do because it reminds me how much I miss Isi. Also, most of my thoughts are the bad ones - cutting a lock of her hair to keep when she was in the mortuary, her telling me she was scared on the morning of the operation and me saying (lying) that it would be alright, memories of her funeral when I left after the service only to go straight back into the room after everyone else had left to find that they had already taken her coffin away. There are worse ones too, but you get the idea.

For the last few weeks I have been trying to busy myself with just about anything else (even housework!) and trying to push thoughts of Isi away. I know how horrible that sounds, like I don't care or I've forgotten. And I haven't forgotten - how could I? - but the nothingness of not actively remembering was, I thought, better. I was so wrong.  Isi deserves to be remembered.

So here are just some rambling incoherent musings that focus on her life rather than her death. One of her 'things' was dressing up, so ...

With rings on my fingers 

Isi loved rings and jewellery in general. She would find a favourite thing and insist on wearing it day and night. Thankfully her school indulged her, even though children weren't supposed to wear jewellery to school.

Sadly only eight rings in this little cheapie packet of plastic rings but she seems happy enough with the effect.

And shoes on my toes!


And the adornment didn't stop at rings - oh no. Shoes were another favourite. Because she had a problem with her feet she had these hugely expensive handmade orthopedic books that she wore most of the time, and she put up with them. But her real love was normal shoes. And not just to fit her - any old shoes would do.

Rachael's boots are good, but are Alex's better?

No, definitely Rachael's!

Socks


Well you've already seen the socks!

Scarves


This is a scarf that one of the chemo nurses knitted for Isi - very tactile and she loved it. You can see she had lost some of her hair from the chemo - honest, it wasn't just a bad mum cut!

And finally, a great big smile, whatever the occasion!

I may not always show it well, but I love you so much Isi.

Mummy

No one calls me mummy anymore. My other two girls call me mum, but only Isi called me mummy.

Today has been an odd day. For one thing it's the 19th and it's the end of the week that I always find the most difficult of each month. Isi died on the 12th September, her funeral was on the 17th and what should have been her 7th birthday was on the 19th September. So now those dates always make me feel really down in every month, not just September.

For another,  I've been feeling very unneeded today. My girls are growing up and are becoming so much more independent (this is a good thing but, like many mothers, I have mixed feeling about it).  They don't want help with homework and they don't need me to do things for them to get ready for school or anything. Neiher of them even seem to want to play much tonight. Steve isn't here and hasn't called so he's obviously not needed to talk to me desperately. And whilst I've tried to fill my day with things I have felt that it doesn't really matter whether I do them or not because no-one will notice or care.

And Isi, you know she was so dependent and so attached to me that she always cared what I was doing. I used to complain about it sometimes - how I couldn't get anything done on my own, how she was always there - and it could be irritating sometimes. But now, I miss it so much, I miss that importance I had in someone else's life and I still miss her so much.

So here is a video from the local Fete du Pain (bread festival). All the kids there let helium balloons off at the same time and I was trying to film it, but you can hear in the background that little voice, calling for me and needing me there.

No one needs me like you did Isi and no one calls my mummy anymore. I miss that and I miss you.

Hands

Isi used her hands so much and not just the usual things that everyone uses their hands for.

For one thing she read. Now Isi, being blind, couldn't read a book in the same way that I do, but she learnt Braille very quickly at school and would whizz through her work. I remember sitting there with her and her homework (and it was always homework for me too as I was learning Braille with her) and, for some bizarre reason, she would have favourite letters. It started out with the letter I, then E then U, and she would scan through her lines, running her fingertips over the letters searching for her number one letter of the moment. I would be there trying to persuade her that we had to do all the letters but no, to her it was a game of hunt the vowel.

So, here is Isi reading with her hands. I always found it amazing to watch - she had such sensitive fingers that she would breeze over the letters in no time at all.

And she could tell things apart by the smallest of physical differences. Try it yourself - close your eyes and try to tell two very similar things apart - it's really hard but she could do it. Her hands were amazing.

So why am I thinking about hands in particular? Because at the moment I cannot get a specific memory out of my head. It was when we were in the hospital just a few days after her last operation. She was unconscious but moved her hand, so softly and gently but it definitely moved, and the doctors and nurses there all told me that was a positive sign. Sadly it wasn't, but I can't stop thinking about that small movement and what it meant. Was she in pain? Was she trying to fight her way back? Was she saying goodbye? I just don't know. The worst part of it is I think that was the last time I ever knew my daughter was alive. I have an official date of death, but that was called after a number of tests and scans showed no signs of brain activity due to massive arterial collapse and I really don't know for sure when she left us. But I do know she was alive with that small gesture with her hand and whatever it meant, and however hard it is to think about it, I am grateful for that small extra communication.

Isi, your hands were amazing. I miss your touch.

Lost and Found

Whilst searching for something this morning, I found some old photos of Isi. These are photos of Isi as a little baby which I thought had been lost when we moved to France after she was born.

I really don't know what I feel. Happy, I think, that I have more photos, but also so shocked because I wasn't expecting them. And saddened too by looking at her little face, so tiny and helpless and yet so full of possibilities now denied.

But it did make me think. Isi battled with her brain tumour for most of her short, short life, and as a consequence, most of my memories are of her with the tumour. It had such an impact on her life - the times spent in hospital, her loss of sight, the special school, her smaller than average size - I feel I could go on forever with the list of its effects. And yet there was a time before her tumour was diagnosed when she was just a normal little baby girl. So very special to us of course, but just another baby as far as the rest of the world was concerned.

So here are just three of the formerly lost, but now found photos.

The first is of me and Isi just cuddling. We used to do that a lot, and I would sit and just watch her, feeling her warm body and inhaling that fresh baby smell. Even as she got older, she would still love to take her afternoon nap on me. There is some damage to the photo but until I get reprints or get busy with Photoshop it will do.

The second picture is Isi lying on her sister Rachael. This picture made me smile - the expression on Isi's face seems to say "oi, that's mine"! There is (was?) just under two years age difference between Rachael and Isi, so they were always closer than Isi and her eldest sister, Alex, who is six years older.

And this one, you can see her looking around with interest and curiosity and it made me remember that once she was able to see (she lost her sight by 18 months old).

Finding these photos brings back memories of when everything was possible, before the tumour took it all away.

So much has been lost.

Doudou

Isi loved teddy bears - her doudous. I mean, really loved them. She took her doudous everywhere - the shops, the hospital, school. Once we accidentally left a doudou at school and only remembered when we were half way home. We raced back and were so relieved to find that her teacher had not only put it somewhere safe but had alerted the whole staff to look out for when (not in case, but when) we came back for it.

Now today it is 6 months since what should have been Isi's 7th birthday. We haven't talked about it much here in the house - it's been somewhat of the elephant in the room so to speak. But it has been really hard for me. I've been thinking a lot about how she would be now, and I think she would still have loved her doudous just as much.

So, the first picture I am sharing is of the gorgeous teddy that my lovely friend Anne sent for Isi for her 7th birthday. Sadly isi never saw it, but we are saving it so that if we ever have grandchildren then we will give it to the first one as a gift from Isi.

It doesn't show in my poor photo but it is so soft and fuzzy and squishy that Isi would have loved it - thank you Anne.

The second thing is Isi with another of her bears. Sorry that it's the wrong way up but I haven't learnt if there's a better way to load videos.

For Isi, as long as she had a doudou she could face the world.

I wish I had a doudou myself.

Countdown

Today was a bad day - it has been six months since Isi died.

I count things down these days - how many weeks has it been, how many days until Steve comes back, how many hours until I can take more painkillers.

Well Isi loved to count in a much nicer way so here she is. Much more fun than my counting!

Cats

We have a few cats due to my soft hearted habit of homing unwanted cats and kittens. As of 2 o'clock this morning we have one less. Doom Kitty (my kids name the cats!) died after falling ill suddenly yesterday afternoon. He was less than 3 years old so this has come as a terrible shock. He was in fine health before so I don't know why he died. I am wondering if perhaps he ate poison (we have a lot of farms around here and I know at least some of them put bait down to kill mice and rats) but I just don't know. I have to tell Isi's sisters this morning and Rachael in particular will be devastated as she adores all the cats.

What does this have to do with Isi? Well, she wasn't keen on all of our cats (sadly, including Doom Kitty) but she did love two of them in particular - Salem and Floppy. Salem she loved because of his loud purr and the way he licked her hand when she stroked him. And Floppy because she was such an easy going cat - never scratched or bit and you could pick her up and play with her like a doll almost!

When we found Doom Kitty, aged about 6 weeks or so, Floppy instantly took to him and behaved like his mum. She would let him suckle for hours, slept with him, played with him, everything that a mother cat would do, except that as a neutered cat she obviously wasn't his mum.  I look at Floppy now and think she has sort of lost her child too.

Anyway, here is Isi with Floppy in Isi's dolls pushchair. What you can't see from this (and I wish I had taken a video) is the half hour before these photos were taken, during which Isi was pushing Floppy around in the buggy. I kid you not, it was for a full 30 minutes that Floppy just say there in the buggy being wheeled around the house. Any normal, sensible cat would have jumped out, but not Floppy - I told you she was easy going. I remember Isi having great fun doing this and the photo shows her giving a little love to Floppy after her long ride.

RIP Isi and now Doom Kitty