Florence “Flo” Joan Turner was one of them.
From the moment she arrived, she was a spark — radiant, unstoppable, and full of life.
She wasn’t just a little girl; she was a whirlwind of joy, curiosity, and fearless independence.
Flo didn’t just walk into a room — she burst into it, turning heads and filling it with the sound of her laughter.
To know her was to be pulled into her orbit, to see the world as she did — wide-eyed, brave, and endlessly bright.
She loved deeply and gave freely.
If someone was sad, she’d offer her favorite toy or plant a kiss on their cheek.
If there was music playing, she’d dance until her hair was wild and her cheeks were flushed.
Her parents often said she was “made of sunshine and storm” — soft and kind, yet fierce and unstoppable.
They couldn’t have imagined that such a radiant soul would one day face something no child ever should.
🌙 The First Signs
It was March 2023 when life began to change.
At first, it was subtle — her right eye started to turn in slightly.
Her parents thought it might be a vision issue, something glasses could fix.
They scheduled a doctor’s appointment immediately.
But that same day, on the way to the car, Flo stumbled.
She blinked, rubbed her eyes, and said softly, “Mummy, I can’t see properly.”
In that instant, instinct took over.
Her parents turned the car around and drove straight to the emergency room.
They hoped it was something minor.
But deep down, a cold fear began to grow — the kind that every parent prays they’ll never have to face.
Tests were run.
Scans were taken.
Hours turned into a blur of white coats, whispered conversations, and the unbearable sound of waiting.
Then came the words that shattered their world.
A doctor sat down gently, eyes full of compassion, and said,
“We found a large tumor in your daughter’s brain. We believe it is DIPG.”
Diffuse Intrinsic Pontine Glioma — a rare, inoperable brain tumor.
There was no cure.
Her parents remember that moment like time had stopped.
Everything else — the hospital noise, the beeping machines, the light from the window — faded away.
All that remained was Flo, sitting in her mother’s lap, unaware of the storm about to unfold.
☀️ Fighting With All Her Heart
From that day on, Flo became a warrior.
She began 30 rounds of intense radiation — her tiny body enduring what most adults could not.
Her parents watched her walk into each session with her head held high, clutching her stuffed bunny, saying,
“I’m brave, Mummy.”
And she was.
Every single day.
The treatments were hard.
There were moments when she cried, moments when she was scared, moments when she was too weak to move.
But somehow, between hospital visits and procedures, she still found ways to smile.
To laugh.
To live.
