In a quiet corner of Scotland, a single photograph captures a family suspended between joy and profound sorrow. The image, taken in September 2020, shows Chitra with her partner Claire, their two young children, and their rescue dog, Daphne, at Inveresk Lodge Garden just outside Edinburgh.
A Moment Frozen in Time
The snapshot was taken on Claire's birthday during a small, hasty picnic of pastries and non-alcoholic Nosecco. The location, a National Trust for Scotland property six miles east of Edinburgh, held special significance. Its wooden deck was a favourite spot for their autistic son, then six, who loved to jump in time with the passing ScotRail trains in the middle distance.
Chitra instinctively knew the moment was worth preserving. She handed her phone to a dear friend, Dawn, who had recently lost her husband and was becoming part of their family. The first attempt saw the dog and son facing away, but the second captured almost everyone looking at the lens, some even smiling—a rare success for this family.
The Layers Beneath the Smiles
This image is treasured for its rarity. Parenting their autistic son often requires Chitra and Claire to care for their children separately, resulting in painfully few photos of them all together. Chitra loves the genuine smiles, Claire's "Gender Trouble" T-shirt, her own red Saltwater sandals, and her daughter's suspicious two-year-old expression.
She also cherishes the setting itself. The garden's quietness is everything to parents of an autistic child—a place free from judgment where they can be themselves. "There have been days when we have seen more kingfishers than people," Chitra recalls, highlighting the sanctuary it provided.
A Picture Saturated in Loss
However, the photo's joy is layered with deep grief. It was taken just three months after Chitra's mother died of breast cancer at the height of the pandemic, alone in a London hospice 500 miles from Chitra's home in Leith. This is an image of a newly motherless daughter holding it together for a birthday under lockdown restrictions.
Tragically, the photo also captures a family unit that would change. Four years later, in another sorrowful autumn, their beloved dog Daphne passed away. The image now exists in the fragile space between the aftermath of one loss and the 'beforemath' of another.
For Chitra, this photo is a survival manifesto. It is a testament to a family's resilience, showing them appearing happy and coping while a raw, urgent life unfolded beneath the surface. It is, unequivocally, a picture of a happy family. And it is a picture utterly saturated in grief.
