Originally Posted by Angela
I was playing let's pretend with my little niece -- maybe she was 4 years old or so. I asked her who she was and what was going on with her. She told me "Well, things are a little tough. I had a husband, but he died." "Really?" I asked. "I'm so sorry for your loss. How did he die?" "Well," she replied, very somberly, "We went rock climbing, but he didn't hold on so good."
I was absolutely amazed at this story. So tragic and so funny. I asked her, "Did you just make this up?" And she said, "No, that really happened. I miss him."
Maybe when you get to be school age, you just stop being willing to believe.
That reminds me of the time I lived in Santa Barbara, and my mother, sister and brothers surprised me with a visit, all coming from different states with one of my brothers on holiday from the Navy and arriving from Japan.
So as I had a couple of jobs then, I stayed in SB while they took my son, who was 5, with them to visit my cousins in San Fransisco.
Excited that they'd get to see the Bay Bridge and all, I asked him if he was happy to go someplace he'd never been, you know. It nearly knocked my socks off when he very casually yet matter-of factly said "Well, remember that I spent a year in San Fransisco."
He'd never been. We'd
never been there, much less lived there. But he said it again, insisting, "Yes I did. I lived a year in San Fransisco. Remember?" AwKWard.
But I knew it was a past life memory.