20 November 1905
I’ve just returned from a mostly delightful weekend with Abe at the old Madison house. Spending it here seemed unbearable with the judgement of so many friends, but he is such warm company and a light in the midst of a dark time. We were able to talk in peace and I learned much about what he does and does not remember. He has these glimpses, pieces of memories and dreams. He insists we was called Aaboukingon before, by his people, and he seems to recall exchanging favors and gifts with them, all tied to the river.
On Friday, while we were gathering wood for the fire, I cut my hand. He called forth water from a nearby stream, and ran it over my hand, and healed the injury! It showed so sign of having ever been hurt. I don’t know how he does these wondrous things, but it seemed to tire him this time.
He did seem to be suffering from his situation. I know not whether he was simply growing more homesick, or if he had caught an illness, but he talked of missing the river and of wishing he was not such a burden on me. Before he moved, we would visit every day, but he has no carriage in Madison and it is much farther. I promised him that I will make arrangements for him to visit it, or perhaps the Monongahela, which is much closer to him, soon.
I assured him that I would return soon. There are enough guest rooms for us all, we should arrange for you and Brandon to visit sometime. You must see what he’s done with the place, it is far more vibrant than mother kept it.