The Sling Diaries, Volume VII. A photo-documentary chronicling the art of baby wearing in the lives of families around the world. Over the course of six months, Sling Diarists will create their own Sling Diary though a series of diary entries interpreting a unique theme given to them each month.
Meet all of our Sling Diarists here.
Letters to Freya: Memory
I have no memories of my biological father. Now as an adult, I'm indifferent to whether this reality is good or bad.
I like the person I am. Who I've become.
I would be a different person had he been in my life.
I tried to contact him once. In my early 20's. I was expecting a novel-length response filled with "I'm sorry’s" and "I love you’s". But instead, I received one or two sentences. So short I'm surprised I can't even remember what exactly was written. Nothing to make me feel special that's for sure.
I was his first born, just as you are to me. I feel sorry for him really. All the "firsts" he missed with me. All the joyful memories he didn't get to see. They’re heart swelling.
You'll grow up with your father always by your side. "Daddy," and "Papa," will be a sweet phrase that rolls off your tongue and isn't foreign as it is to me. I’ll be there. Do my best to document the memories you’ll share.
When he's with you, my heart melts. There's nothing like that father daughter bond. I can see it. Feel it. It's definitely transforming. The way he looks at you. How much love he has for you.
He wants to show you the world. You need that. Someone to teach you the little tid-bits of knowledge that a number of people would never know. The names of birds above on our walks, to the flowers between our toes below. Pick his brain. You'll be surprised what he knows. I always am.
We're so lucky to have him.
This is your first Christmas. Not one that you'll be remembering from your own memory, but one we will forever remember in ours.
The lights. The decor. The spirit.
The amount of hours spent starring at the twinkling Christmas tree lights together, accompanied with the drives around town marveling at the neighbor’s festive house lights. Your Papa and I were doing most of the marveling because you were busy staring at me. Sitting next to you. In the back seat. Marveling.
But still you enjoyed it nonetheless.
You've made Christmas magical again.
I know Christmas will be more magical for you in the near future, but this one is particularly special for us. It's our first Christmas with you, and only you.
Just the three of us. Our first born. Our most precious gift. A memory I would never want to miss.
Merry Christmas little Freya.