I can’t remember if I actually emailed you or just thought of it almost every day since we received the gorgeous photo albums in the mail.

Thanks and love and blessings to you all!
Seanna

Then, at 19 months old, she was diagnosed with cancer. We spent several days in the PICU at Seattle Children’s and the thought of picking up my camera was suddenly terrifying. I was so aware that I could be documenting moments that would end up being some of the only tangible remains of my daughter that I’d have one day. I was having some sort of semi-conscience protest about these scary turn of events in our once seemingly “perfect” little life. That’s partly why we take pictures though isn’t it? To document moments to share and reminisce over later. But, when it comes to your child, you expect to sit down with them one day and flip through photo albums and share the memories together; laugh at their two year old naked bottoms running through a sprinkler in the backyard together. That is the dream anyway.

When that same child is diagnosed with a life threatening disease, the picture changes. The dreams change. At least they did for us. It was a while before I started taking pictures again, the way that I used to; before I got more comfortable documenting the life we were faced with instead of always clinging to the one we’d been forced to leave behind. It was a tough and scary transition. Oddly enough though, the few pictures I have of Olivia in the PICU, in the early days after her diagnosis, are ones I often look back at. To see how her hair looked before chemotherapy made it all fall out. To marvel at her sitting there reading books not long after she had been so close to death. I see how vulnerable she was but also how resilient. There is hurting and relief, and fear and hope, all in one picture. There is so much worth in that moment for me, as her mother.

From that stay in the PICU, we hopped on the cancer treatment roller coaster, which eventually led to a bone marrow transplant. A Soulumination photographer took pictures of Olivia and our family about three months post transplant. We have the image you framed and sent to us hanging on our living room wall. There is as much beauty in the bald headed girl with an ng tube taped to her cheek, smiling back at me from that familiar spot in my parent’s driveway (almost two years ago), as there is in the curly headed girl with a robust appetite that sits before me today. Those images document an important and treasured part of our story. Her story.

I have since learned the true worth of a picture and know that sometimes, the ones that hurt the most to take, are the most treasured of all.

It is true, I think, that the gift of a moment in time – a moment that we cannot get back – a moment where we touched and smiled and were simply together with the people that we love and cherish the most, is a truly priceless thing.

We thank you for all of the work that you do, the time and effort donated by your administrators and talented photographers alike, to bring families like ours treasured moments to last a lifetime.

With warm regards and many thanks from our family and, in honor of Liam Anderson and Cody Sangster, who were taken too soon and are dearly loved and greatly missed.

Rachel Ambroson (Olivia’s mom)

I’d like to share with you how your generous gift allows Soulumination to continue to serve families.

Following the birth of our identical twin boys, it became evident that the twin’s journey couldn’t be more different. Where Emmett thrived, his brother Mercer’s health progressively became more complicated and challenging. For seven months we worked with medical professionals to try to heal Mercer’s fragile body with the hope of bringing him home from the hospital. Our hopes unfortunately were never realized.

When it finally became clear that little Mercer’s life was destined to be short, we were introduced to Soulumination and to its founder/photographer Lynette Johnson. Lynette joined us at Mercer’s bedside to capture on film one of the few times our entire family of five was all together. Lynette created a precious gift in the portfolio of images she made while documenting our life with little Mercer in the weeks before his passing.

While the scent, warmth and softness of Mercer’s delicate body is gone, we can still recall and envision the memories of our time together through these photographs. The warm and compassionate images Lynette captured for us during her visit are among the few mementos we have to take us back to our days together with little Mercer as a family. The photos also provide a way for his surviving twin, Emmett, and older brother Ashton to connect with their departed brother. Today, those images have a special place in our home and represent closest realization of having Mercer at home with us.

From our hearts, we thank you for supporting families like ours through Soulumination.

Heidi & David B.

Ultimately our sweet Kameah passed; her little body was simply not able to endure both her illness and the aggressive treatments required. We have grieved and we will continue to miss our angel. Thanks to the kind people of Soulumination that give of their time and talents, we have beautiful visual memories of not only our Kameah but also our entire family. They are the only professional photos we have of our entire family, which are literally irreplaceable.

We came to understand that Soulumination did something amazing with the photos; they made Kameah§s fight a family affair by individualizing the connection between Kameah and her siblings. The photos were not of a sick baby but a loving family. The shoot was not about her fight, but our fight, our struggle, our bonds. The photos remind us that though we were tired, we were also strong, resilient, and blessed by the opportunity we had to grow as a family.

I know from personal experience that Soulumination photographers and staff do everything they can to make the family and patient comfortable while creating visual treasures of not just a family, but of a time, a moment where love, fear, strength, sickness, science, faith, and hope collide, where the future is uncertain and the present overwhelming. The willingness of Soul photographers to step into the midst of this environment and offer the family a moment of peace is both courageous and an inspiring example of love. Thank you Lynette for your vision and for the realization of a dream to help. You are all truly helping and giving more than you know!

The Hubschman Clan
Patrick, Holly, Nylene, Kellan, Riana, Kiernan, and Kameah

As I have walked through this process of grieving my child, I have had a mix of emotions.

Some days I feel empowered because of the strength that came out of me and my two kids during Téah’s treatments. Some days I feel happiness for her that she doesn’t have to suffer anymore. Most days I missed her so much it hurts. And then there are times when fear and guilt darken my days. On those days I replay our toughest times and my worst moments. Moments when I let fear build up and it would come out as anger and frustration. I grieve those moments because I don’t like that I chose anger over love and understanding and I feel immense guilt. Or memories of Téah experiencing extreme anxiety over a procedure – so hard! Sometimes the tough moments seem to outweigh the good, but then I can pull out those pictures and peace washes over me. I remember that there were WAY more good moments than bad, Téah was very happy even in the middle of her treatment time and, most importantly, she loved me. Even at my worst moment she loved me and forgave me.

This is what you do for people. You help them remember the good and it also helps them remember who their child was. Nearly every part of Téah was captured in our photographs. So amazing! Thank you!!

Blessings,
Faith