I have at home a man of twelve years.
I see photos of graduation and in only four months has developed a more mature face, a deeper look and features were more severe.
With all appeared also some pimples and many cocks in her voice.
not the same child a year ago.
I see him walk when I pick it up at school and looks serene, very different from pre-teens I know.
is increasingly high, as is almost my height.
measured every day with me to see how many inches he needs to reach me.
Very few, only about eight.
With the tumult of change physical, he has also changed.
remains ready, loving, interested in everything ... and now is stronger and intense.
tells me many things and others do not.
I respect his silence although I miss her confidences.
miss my child.
miss Christmas with the many gifts and meter boxes wrapped in colored paper. Now he saves and works for gifts and give what I can fit into a small bag and is likely to contain cables and USB ports.
William has changed and adapted. To us it's costing us more.
I'm not sad.
I'm proud.
But could not be my baby one more time? "About ten years?
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