Visiting Hugo this morning, I took along four pine cones I had painted for him in silver and blue sparkles.
Suitable presents for Hugo’s garden is a challenge because they need to be able to withstand the elements. Painting the pine cones was a personal present from Hugo’s mummy and daddy (Martin helped) – especially considering how much I like sparkle.
It is a beautiful, bright and sunny day today. The sparkly twigs were shining, and the sparkly pine cones made a good complement.
The garden is a menagerie of animals, whirlygigs and flowers. Hugo’s solar-powered butterfly was fluttering away in the winter sunshine. I like to think it is Hugo saying ‘hello’ to us.
Most of the other babies’ gardens are decorated with Christmas things, and are adorned with toys and other personal bits and bobs. Some babies’ gardens are sadly overgrown – there are no items to show they are loved and remembered. There is one such baby in the plot next to Hugo. In the spirit of Christmas, Martin took one of Hugo’s windmills and placed it on the other baby’s grave. Hugo was sharing his toys so that another baby could have a present, something to show that he too matters and is remembered.
Thank you to everyone who has sent such kind messages saying they are thinking of the three of us this Christmas. The mention of Hugo really does mean the absolute world. Some of you who have got in touch have not met Martin or me, let alone Hugo. But whoever you are, you are very special to us, and we are so very grateful.
We wish everyone a very happy Christmas, wherever you are and whatever you are doing.
Special thoughts go out to everyone who is missing someone this Christmas – whether that someone is their baby, child, relative or friend. I am not going to list people for fear of missing someone out, but I know you know who you all are.
I also send love to the relatives and friends of those affected in disasters in the past couple of weeks, in this country, and in other places across the world. There is no ‘good’ time to lose a loved one, but Christmas amidst the rawness of the most awful early days of grief must be an additional torment.
Tomorrow will be a challenging day for Martin and I. Tomorrow should have been our first Christmas with our new baby. We should be helping Hugo unwrap more toys and clothes than one baby could ever know what to do with.
Instead, we shall celebrate his memory, and try to focus on all the joy he brought us. His presence remains.