Memento

She was sitting with her family on a blanket towards the edge of the great lawn next to The Bean. The first thing I noticed about her was the pretty floral kerchief pulling her dark brown hair back from her face. The next thing I noticed was that she was nursing her child who was probably at least 2-and-a-half. I smiled at her when our eyes met, and the corners of her mouth turned upward just slightly, as if she were not sure that my smile was actually intended for her. I wanted to tell her that I had nursed mine until she was way past toddlerhood, and how much that relationship meant to both me and my daughter, but shyness prevented me from offering more than my smile and bashful looks of admiration. I quietly applauded her casual openness in nursing amongst thousands of people without any sign of self-consciousness or awkwardness or preemptive defiance aimed at anyone around her who might be judging her. If you had never seen a woman nursing an older toddler, and you saw her as I did that evening, you would think it was the most natural thing in the world, and a comfort to witness as well.

Later, when she stood up to play with her two small children, I saw that she was wearing a long flowy snow-white skirt that looked like a graceful billowy cloud floating above the grass. Again I admired her, for that is probably the last thing I would have worn were I the mother of two small children on a picnic, for I know too well my tendency to leave traces of my meal on whatever I happen to be wearing, not to mention Cadence's habit of using me as a napkin. Then I noticed her adorable dark blue denim sneakers peeking out from underneath her skirt, and I knew I just had to get a photo.

I'm about as nostaligic as they come, and this one photo is my memento of those warm feelings I had for a total stranger whom I observed and admired during the course of a free family concert on a lovely summer evening. It is also my unspoken blessing over her and her family for the simple joy and comfort I received in just being near their quiet contentment. This small token of a photo is the key to memories that I've already placed carefully and lovingly in the altar space of my heart.

Won't you share with us an image that conjures up a meaningful memory or that has a special story behind it?  I know I'm not the only nostalgic one around here...

Comments

[kosenrufu mama]

here a story of a dream, that now it is real...
http://esterdaphne.blogspot.com/2009/06/realizzare-un-sogno-si-puo.html

[Marcie]

This image - to me - conjures up a sense of nostalgic timelessness. This little boy could be a child of the 50's..or of today:
http://www.marciescudderphotography.com/index.php?showimage=855

[maile]

Love this image, especially after hearing the story behind it. I hope this woman somehow finds your post. I bet she'd be so amazed. It also makes me think about all the times I've wanted to tell someone something, but held back for one reason or another. Thank you for sharing this. It's really lovely.

[Lou]

I love the story and the emotion in your post. Here's one of mine.
http://lou-2009.blogspot.com/2009/06/this-one-is-for-grandpa.html

[georgia]

lovely post.

here is one of my nostalgic memories/photos:

http://itsjusthowiseethings.blogspot.com/2009/07/playing-with-curves.html

[camerashymomma]

i love those moments. when we feel kindred to another. i nursed my own til nearly age three and i often share that little smile with momma's i see with a toddler in their lap. this time of childhood and motherhood is so short, that i find myself longing and reaching for those moments that are perhaps only attached now with heartstrings. i'm glad you have this moment captured with a photo.

[tricia]

This photo of my kids gives me that nostalgic dreamy feeling:)




http://www.flickr.com/photos/16windows/3735457154/in/set-72157621687890562/

[djbeat]

i sometimes write down photos that were never realized( http://tiny.cc/psPHN) ; they are images i keep in my mind when a camera was not available - or when i could not bring myself to interrupt a moment (i flip thru them often never forgetting).

last week i was on the ferry with bb boy (on the way over for a visit with my parents) - the ride was blustery... actually, the ride was insanely windy - but gorgeously sunny & warm - bb boy & i sat on the top deck happily soaking up the sun & protected from the wind. there were tweener girls everywhere (coming home from a night in vancouver & a jonas brothers concert); one family of four girls caught my attention & i ached to pull out my camera.

they were: 6-11 years old, all gangly legs & arms, dressed in various shades of pink & red & orange, and they each had glorious long wavy hair to their waists - blonde & strawberry blonde & red! they took to the wind like a fair ride - the image i will not forget is them (all four) standing on the bright blue ferry bench against the bright blue sky - their pink&red&orange shirts fluttering like banners & their hair like golden flags - torn tendrils blowing straight back in the wind (they grinned from ear to ear & squealed with delight)!

i wished i was a tweener in that moment
& i still wish i had taken that photo...

[elk]

this was a lovely and thoughtful post..

.i have many moments and often times just gather them together in a random list of shots ...favored song too:
http://www.redorgray.com/2009/01/blog-post_04.html

[kim]

Not exactly one image, but I take photos of almost every course of a meal when I am on vacation or celebrating a special meal. I started a special section of my blog just for "food porn" but realized that I always want to integrate the images into the main postings, as these are my momentos-- how I remember important things. Each photo reminds me of who I was with, what we were doing, and what the meal felt like. My food photos are my momentos:
http://kimjeff.wordpress.com/food-porn/

[Rachel Parton]

Just returned home from a mission trip to Jamaica... every picture is a memory.
http://partonpics.blogspot.com/2009/07/speculating.html

[Lois Lane]

I thoroughly enjoyed this post. I'm still nursing my 22 month old and loving it. It's such a special time and something you and your daughter will always have.

[Visty]

I never thought I would make it past 6 months, let alone become a mother of an "extended nurser" who is now 31 months old. She has stopped asking for it during the day, unless she is very stressed, and we've had a night here and there without it as the ultimate bedtime lullaby. I know the time is coming soon where she will no longer ask, but I am in no hurry. I wonder what I would do at a summer concert if she asked...I have found that in portland (oregon) people are pretty accepting. In our own suburban town outside of portland, they are not. I love this picture. Just a mama in 2009. Simply sweet.

[BishopLucile26]

freelance writer