Liara doesn't remember it, but that doesn't mean that Benezia and every single person who ever even heard about it doesn't tell the story as if they had been there. Still, Liara clings to the memory of a memory because it is her mother and because it made her happy.
Back before Benezia had learned Liara's strange sleeping habits and quirks, back when Liara had been a mere four years old and struggling to speak they had co-slept during the night. It was not restful for either party but they had no way to know what Liara wanted considering she was still mostly babbling. So often at night Benezia would wake up to her daughter crying and crying, and they would essentially play a game of 20 Questions.
Do you want some water?
Are you cold?
Are you too hot?
Are you hungry?
Do you need the bathroom? Potty?
The answer was always a watery shake of the head and sniffles, no matter what.
This particular night, Liara had finally been fitfully put to sleep (at least fifteen of her mother's acolytes claimed it was them) as Benezia was still at the temple issuing rights and reading scripts (allegedly for Janiaris, the solstice, and the Blessing of Mitera). Benezia had barely made it back in her exhaustion at 2, 3, and 4 in the morning. She promptly went to her room and collapsed into bed next to baby Liara. Benezia was woken up that night not by her daughter's crying or screaming but by a painful feeling on her crest. Benezia slowly woke up to find Liara's hands on her face, scratching her head and crest, drooling a little bit (a lot), and happily repeating mana, mana, mana. First proper word from the late bloomer and first night of sleep without some sort of drama attached. Benezia had been so happy she had scooped Liara up and (laughed, sang, danced) so loudly that (one, several, everyone) came up to see what had possibly happened to their exhausted matriarch.
Liara always liked her mother's quiet explanation the most.
You spoke and you named me, and my heart soared on these little wings you gave me.