The whole universe, full of atoms and particles and energy and gravity and stars and planets and rhythm, once held you. And you, with the dignity that comes with being alive, like plants and animals and single-cell organisms, were so far above and beyond even the vast beauty of nebulae and planets and stars and mountains and oceans.
And you, from the moment of conception, were endowed with a soul, formed in the womb in the image of God Himself, and so were greater still than all other kinds of life.
And the universe, unaware of the weight of your existence, continued to turn in its rhythms, growing, changing, remaining constant. This planet will never feel the imprint of your feet on the dirt, or the impact of your carbon dioxide you breathe in and out. The air will not change from the vibrations of your voice. Society will not know your contributions, at least not under your own name. Your siblings may not know of you for decades. Some people who know of you now may forget you.
But my whole universe contained you. Out of all the wombs throughout time and history, mine was the one that held you. You made my stomach sick. You made my fingernails stronger. You made my hair fall out and my gums bleed and my taste buds long for pico de gallo. You made me fight with your daddy about money and how late he was working. You made me proud of your daddy for working hard and making plans to provide for you. You made my love for him stronger and better. You changed my whole universe. And my womb was all of yours.
And God knew you. He knit you together, he placed in you your soul, your intrinsic worth. He made you in his image, and he loved you. He knew each of your days down to the second, and he created plans just for your short life. I don’t know the extent of them, But you have already changed my life and you have already changed the lives of others, even if only in small ways.
And now the universe has lost you. Everything I know of and touch and taste and smell and learn, from my own conception until my final breath, is my universe, and it doesn’t know you. You are beyond the universe, you are safe and loved in the presence of God, forever. You will not know the universe any more than it knows you. You will not breathe its air or taste its food or feel its motion. You will not either know the evil it contains, or the pain or the suffering. You are beyond it all, and you are the lucky one. For what is the universe and all its majesty compared with the presence of God? What you know is only love and justice and mercy and power and grace and beauty beyond words.
I and the rest of the universe have lost you, but you have lost nothing at all, and only gained what every soul longs for. I envy you, and I miss you. But my foolish, imperfect love in this enormous, empty, and ever-expanding vastness of the universe will never compare to the perfect love you are wrapped in for eternity. From the heights of nebulae to the minutiae of quarks, this universe contains life and beauty and joy and love and knowledge. But you, beyond all of that, know nothing but God.