A Memory - Thankfully Retrieved

I am so frustrated that memories seem to leak out of my brain faster than I can make them!  I was astonished recently by a lost memory that I am very glad to retrieve. I’m writing it down because I don’t want to lose it again. Miss Abigail and I were crocheting together, making the jar ribbons for the pantry. Abigail said to me, “Mom, when you first taught me to crochet, you read to me.” Well, I was a little startled that I couldn’t remember that since it was only three or maybe four years ago, but I do remember now that I’ve been reminded. She was in the 4-H crochet project and the easiest item was still quite beyond her skill and it took her a long time to do it. I tried to make the time pass a little more pleasantly by reading aloud while she crocheted. This actually should stand out in her memory because I don’t much care for reading out loud. Maybe I just conveniently forget that I don’t read to her as often as I should. But the memory that I was struggling to retrieve was different altogether.

When Abigail first made the comment I thought she said “sang to me.” I doubtfully replied, “What song did I sing?” She laughed and repeated the comment. Then she said, “I do remember, when I was very little, you used to sing me a song. Something about my nose.” That remark brought back such a rush of feeling, because I had sung a very special little song  when she was very, very young. I made it up. Abigail’s Song, I called it. It was just one of those sort of tuneless ditties that you murmur when your baby is fussy and you are trying to distract them. I sang it while I nursed her or when I got her dressed. But I couldn’t remember the words or the tune. Abigail couldn’t really remember it and it wasn’t the kind of song you sing if you think people are paying too much attention. But memories are a mother's treasure. I really, really wanted to remember it and I fussed about it all day long. Finally, late in the evening, the memory came back at last. I used to sing:

I love Abigail, I love Abigail, she’s my special, special girl.

I love her eyes, I love her ears, I love her cute little nose.

I love her cheeks, I love her hands, I love her down to her toes.

Then I would repeat it with some different body parts, like knees or elbows or hair or whatever until she was dressed and happy again. Well, I’m satisfied now. Thank you, Jesus. This memory has made my heart happy.