Nightlife by Caatherinee

When I was 10, unconditional love smelled like coffee with a hint of white cream to lighten the darkness in a ceramic cup, and sugar to sweeten the bitterness of morning awareness.  When ever my mother let me drink coffee, we would sit at the dining room table for hours talking about everything and nothing at all – It didn’t matter.  Yet, I know now that she was slowly enduring a pain that would eventually take her life.  At the time I only knew that I was loved by these moments that we shared and the aroma of coffee to this day I love so much.

When I was 20, unconditional love sounded like the voices of Eric Clapton and James Taylor.  I remember swaying in a hammock that was held by two old oak trees that talked to me of their days of young.  There were carvings in the trunks of those before me – perhaps lovers; perhaps friends; but the initials were everlasting among the bark.  I remember the taste of lemonade, and writing poetry that would someday tell my story about how my life as a nomad would change the world.  My travels were many and along the way; I felt loved, free spirited and unknown.

When I was 30, unconditional love felt like the warmth of a summer’s night while the crickets filled their love songs in the air.  There was a man with latte colored skin, dark blue eyes and strong arms who wrapped around me as no other had done in my lifetime.  His art of compassion flowed through his photos and music; as through me.  It was heartwarming yet draining at the same time.  He told me everyday that I was loved and I would tell him the same…Even though we were not talking anymore.

When I was 40, unconditional love felt like the softness of a baby boy who tenderly smiled and wrapped his small arms around my neck for comfort and security.  His need for love and to be loved; soulfully captivated me with his big brown eyes; and I could hear him say, “I love you, Mommy,” although his words were the mere beat of his heart. I told him about life and how to move about with pride and dignity of who he was and wanted to be.  Follow your heart and soul as if each day was your last; for nothing is certain in this world except our love for one another – as it should be.

Now, with a few years into 50, my mother and father have passed away; my first love remains attentive, yet unbinding; and my son has begun his own journey for unconditional love.  I have found that love is experienced by the senses I carry within me and by effectuating a love for myself and for others.  I have come to know that I am something much grander than “I” alone; where the universe cradles me regardless of my thoughts…



© Linda Moon