A Love Letter to My Son

By Christina Contaldi
December 29, 2019

My shoe size
has been the same
for over 20 years.

I look in the mirror,
and ever since I can remember,
the same brown eyes,
the same brown hair,
the same face,
look back at me.

I know myself.

Yet every day with you, my son,
I am confronted with
a constant of change.

When you were an infant,
I watched your baby blue eyes
morph into a hazel-brown.
And just like that,
you had new colored eyes.

Like a walking clock,
I can see the passage of time.
In your walk,
your words,
your clothes,
your mannerisms.

With every season,
your body grows;
requiring a new coat,
new shoes,
new sizes.

I’ve packed up the time
in organized bins –
0-3, 3-6, 6-12, 2T, 3T, 4T…

I watched your body
roll, crawl, wobble, walk, run.
Just when I think I know you,
you become someone else.

I’ve watched
your round belly disappear,
your chunky legs thin out,
facial features get more defined,
as the baby fat fades away.

I’ve heard, and seen you,
talk, listen, understand,
interpret, relate, express, create.

It truly is astounding
to watch you unfold.
And with each milestone, I know,
that it will soon be a distant memory.
Because more of you
is blossoming every day.

I can only hope,
that with the whirlwind of change,
you can always feel
the constant of my love.

Because whomever you become tomorrow,
you can be sure,
I will love him, too.