The world can see the shape of you in me

The world can see the shape of you in me, Hugo.

They see it in the stars –

You are in the stars.

I am surrounded by symbols of you, my darling.

We will never see what you would have looked like as a chubby newborn –

Nor will we hear your cry, your giggle, or see you crawl.

See you look up in wonder at something…

Now I look up in wonder at you, Hugo. My Hugo in the stars.

The world can see the shape of you in me, Hugo.

In my feistiness. In the determination we share.

Through your legacy, my darling.

The world can see the shape of you in me, Hugo

The sorrow, the heartbreak that you are not in my arms.
The weight of my empty arms.

The weight of the sorrow, the grief.

The sadness in my eyes.

The world can see the shape of you in me, Hugo.
I write about you all the time.

I tell people what a special baby you were. And are.
How you didn’t like any position other than your tummy
How you would kick off a blanket if it covered your feet
How you liked to rest your feet on your nest, not tucked up inside it
How you liked to grab the wires, pull them out
How you liked to shake off your armguards
How strong you were.

The world can see the shape of you in me, Hugo –
In the love that will never end,
The part of my heart that you took with me when you left.

Oh how I miss you, Hugo –
And love you to the stars, to the moon, and back.

I will never be the same again without you.

But the world can see the shape of you in me, Hugo.
There is no footprint too small that cannot leave an imprint on the world, they say.

And so it is with you, my darling –
Your imprint is on me,
On your legacy,
On the world.

Your energy flies around the stars, the world, us –
In that, you will always live, and be with us.