Martha, on Memory. Sling Diaries, Vol VII.
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.
A memory walk is exercise for the heart and soul. I feel the rays of sunshine upon me and the cool breeze past me. Ah, I hope the winter gets here soon. With light jackets we enjoy a walk. The breath of fresh air gives me a certain sense of calm and walking besides my littles makes me feel weightless, like I am swimming in love. I forget about everything when I’m with them, and it almost feels like I have everything figured out. I always want these moments to last forever.
The simple act of walking brought nostalgia of my childhood memories. Memories are often invoked by fragrances, and for me it’s this fresh air I smell right now. The feeling is a blissful evocation of time spent with my mother and sister. Innocence. Love. Happiness. Childhood. I think about that every now and then; I think about the old days when I was a kid. I felt exactly how I feel in this very moment, free, unrestricted, like paper in the sky. Floating. Flying.
My mother, sister and I walked everywhere. It wasn’t by choice, but more out of necessity because my mother did not drive. I don’t ever recall complaining, as a matter a fact we never did complain, not even when it rained. We were happy to walk. We walked to school, the grocery store, dance class, to go enjoy a meal. We always had a destination, always. Our walks were never for leisure because why would we walk for fun if we always had to walk everywhere. Walking slowly and for fun was non-existent when I was growing up. There was always somewhere where we needed to be, and we needed to get there in a timely manner. Although our walks had a destination, our minds didn’t. Our little brains always wandered. Two little girls, one on each side of my mother, talking, bickering, giggling, doing what sisters do. Oh, how I miss those days.
I toss my head back, and raise my eyes to the sky a smile spreads from cheek to cheek. I hold on to those memories very well. I need those memories to stay with me, I need them to soothe me, I need them to be reminders of how simple the act of freedom feels.
Today my children and I do walk for fun. We walk to admire the leaves on the ground, to slowly smell the fresh air. No place to get to, no destination, simply just walking.
While we walk I think about how my life growing up was spent outdoors, smelling the fresh air, this scent that was my childhood. A scent that my children need to be familiar with. Yes, my children and I drive everywhere, but if each day I can give them a tiny piece of those memories, I will. The simple act of walking and smelling fresh air.
This life around me is soft and friendly. I feel like I am being embraced by the world. If it were not for the passers on the busy street I would spin like a little girl again, like I used to with my sister, but instead I keep my hands touching my baby and inhale deeply. This wind carries the fragrance of fresh air, the essence of my childhood days…
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