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Unconditionally

I do not believe in love at first sight in the romantic sense and to be quite frank, I do not believe it in any other sense. Love is something that attacks us. It warms us when we first feel it and it pains us when we miss it. When that pain subsides, we come to realize that it was never love, but some other emotion masked in out understanding of what love is. True love, that kind we call unconditional, isn't comfortable. It makes us have physical reactions to it's presence and even more so to its absence. Most love takes time to nurture and yes, it needs to be cultivated, cared for an more than anything, caressed. Made to feel as if it's as important as it should be. 

The bond between a mother and child is often misinterpreted as unconditional, but there are physical and physiological needs, which can be scientifically explained. This does not diminish the value, but it is clearly a matter of condition. Even saying the words is conditioned. No, unconditional love is something else. It's not comfortable. It magnifies time and distance in a way, we can not express to others in words, but simply hope they understand. Most do not. 

Yesterday, the first year anniversary of my only niece's birth. Was a painful one. In her first year of life, I've only spent a matter of hours with her. I've held her only three, maybe four times. She's slept on my shoulder for hours. She smiled at me in a way, I haven't experienced since her father did the same, when he was a child. She bounced on my knee, turning at times to touch my arm, pulling the hair, taking rests against my chest. A babies warmth, smell and laughter does things to us, but when it makes us miss them before they are gone, it's impossible to explain. 

I did not see her or even hear her yesterday. A cold, some plans and my situation, my distance, my adherence to some odd etiquette denied me. I thought of her from the time I woke, until the time I slept. Knowing she doesn't know me, hurts. Knowing it may be some time before she does, hurts more. I will never be able to give her the things society looks at as love and care, but one day, when she's old enough to understand, I'll tell her of her first Christmas and thank her for being the reason we are sharing the current one. Maybe by then, she'll feel for me, as I do for her. 

Happy Birthday Iliana.
Your Uncle loves you more than life itself.

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