And not the ceramic collectible kind...
My mother started the tradition about 31 years ago. She made up a song containing my name which she sung to me every night. This song brought comfort and love and joy to me, even when I was in labor as a young woman. The song went like this:
Heather Leigh, Mommy's pretty Heather
You are Daddy's, too.
Heather Leigh, sweet and pure,
Pretty Heather Leigh.
Simple and beautiful. She would sing it over and over until I fell asleep or my fears dissipated.
When my oldest son was born, I asked my mother to compose a little tune for him. We (Zombie and I) sang it to Joshua consistently for the first two years of his life....then the twins were born. Things were hectic and time for singing just seemed to disappear when coralling three very young children to bed with prayers, drinks of water, and potty breaks.
Today, on the way to school, when it is just the two of us, I thought of the song my mother invented. I sang it for Joshua:
Joshua, Joshua, sent from heaven above,
Joshua, Joshua, God's true gift of love.
Mommy's love for you, (second verse, substitute Daddy for Mommy)
will always be so true.
Joshua, Joshua, special in every way.
My 8 year old said nothing, but tears streamed down his cheeks. When I asked him if he remembered the song and liked it, he responded...
"I love it, Mom. *sniff* Will you sing it again?"
I don't know if the song brought back sweet memories for him, or if this was the first time he truly understood the words. It really doesn't matter. The moment was magical. A truly precious moment.