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Past life bonds - family and other

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Jill Kamp

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I remember several past lives, and I have recognized several people from this life in them. For example:

My father (who in this life absolutely loves Pacific Northwest Indian art and culture but despises the way many Indians today choose to live their lives) was also my father in the life I remember as an Indian boy. I saw him very clearly in that life, but he looked absolutely nothing like he appears today. What with his prejudices against Indians, it makes perfect sense to me he would be there, back in the days before fur traders contaminated the old ways with white culture...but my father hates the very idea that he might have been an Indian (even though he now makes Indian art). He doesn't believe in reincarnation even though his greatest love is history. Anyway, no matter how many times I tell him what I saw, he won't buy it. It's very frustrating.

I've also recognized my brother in this life from a past life, and although he believes in it, he insists I have the wrong dates. From what I've seen, we were on a ship off the Central American coast in the 1530s and he was the ship's bosun; I was a pee-on sailor. When I tell him this, he insists he was a pirate in a later era, and that I've got the ship, location and his shipboard title wrong--he was the captain. I try to explain to him that possibly he was these things, but in a later life, another existence at sea on yet another ship. He doesn't agree.

I've also recognized my best friend in a past life. In the 1790s, she lived in a small cottage on the grounds of a large estate, and she was middle class, certainly not as well-off as I was in that lifetime. I lived in the big country house, and while it didn't belong to me, my husband in that life and I were using it during the winter months while the owner was in London. We used only the top bedroom, the rest of the house being closed off and unused (probably for warmth reasons). Now in this life, I am still better off in many ways than my friend, and while her fondest wish is to own a house, have a white picket fence, etc., I have never cared much about these things. I guess I still take my house for granted! Thus it makes perfect sense we were in that particular situation in that life, and that she would still hold it against me that I "live in the big house." But to get to the point, when I told her about what I saw, not only did she not believe it, she was offended. When I tried to tell her that, whether for her or for me, there was obviously a lesson to be learned somewhere in our repeating situation, she dismissed the whole thing out of hand.
 
Broken promise to protect our children

A while back I was working with a hypnotherapist.

The regression regarding my sister was set in the 1800's ,I believe we lived in the mountains in a cabin. We had 5 children and when I dropped in to that regression she had already died. I was very ill and dying myself.

I had been attacked by an animal and my injuries were very bad. Being that far up in the mountain there was no doctor or anyone else who could help. I passed away leaving the children alone, breaking my promise to my wife. I had promissed her I would take care of the children.

As I was dying I felt like I had broken my promise to protect the children. (The feeling of failing to protect the children of leaving them alone is something that still bring tears to my eyes today. It also explains why I feel the need to work with children and why I seem to take in children that need a home.)

I brought the pain of that lifetime with me into this life. My sister in this life was my wife in that pastlife. She was angry with me the moment I was born and I've had a devoted love for her and a need to take care of and protect since I was a very small child. She is older then me by 5 years and we have other siblings.

I am very connected to her, when I was young I would have dreams and premonitions regarding her and I would try to stop her from getting in trouble or getting hurt, but it never worked. No matter how hard I tried to change things I couldn't.

When I did the regression I saw that after I died, that a friend of ours had come by after I had passed away, he was a trapper. He would stop by when he was in our neck of the woods. When he arrived he found the children and he took the kids with him.

Seeing that part was very healing though I still well up with emotion when I think of it. I now know that our children were not left alone but were rescued by our friend. I've never told my sister about this regression, I thought I would someday.

We get along better these days but I do see parts of that lifetime in this one. When I did my regression I walked away with the idea that at least in this lifetime we would get to grow old together and that she would get the chance to raise her children and see her grandchildren grow up.

That I wouldn't be called on to step in and be the mother and father again. I thought this time it would be different. Last winter I had to take my sister to the doctor; she was very ill and since she hates doctors I had to make her go.

She has a terminal illness, it doesn't look as if she will be here too long, my husband and I have talked about raising her son. Her granddaughter has been living with me for 4 1/2 months, she is only 6months old. My sister can't make the longterm commitment. The baby is a joy and we love having her, but I pray my sister will be able to stay on this planet long enough to finish raising her youngest son.

But if not it's ok ,I believe that things work out the way they are supposed to. Though it's hard to let go, I find comfort in knowing that we will meet again. Though time appears to tick slowly it really passes by faster than my mind can conceive, so I try to enjoy and be thankful of every moment and in times of trouble and pain I remind myself that this too shall pass .

Paula
 
A chance meeting triggers a flash and recognition from a past life

I met Jimmy at a party at a friends house. Jimmy is my friend's cousin; he was visiting her from California. As long as I live I will never forget that night!

When he arrived at her house the party was well under way. She introduced him to several people and then she started waving at me from across the room. His eyes locked on mine as they made their way towards me and from that moment on weird things began to happen; the first thing I noticed was that I felt like he was looking right into my soul, I mean almost an uncomfortable feeling.

It wasn't the kind of uncomfortable feeling that a person gets when someone stares at you intently, but rather imagine if you met a stranger and they KNOW your soul! I mean everything about you!

But here is the really weird part; time was distorted, slowed down.. It seemed like he was moving in slow motion and I felt split, one part of me thinking it was my imagination playing some kind of trick and another part of me wanting to get out of there! It was Mega deja vu!

I didn't mention it to my friend or her cousin as I myself didn't know what to make of it and I knew it would sound crazy.

Several days later I was at home and I was thinking back over those events; still puzzled by it. I sat at my kitchen table
thinking about it when all of a sudden from nowhere came images, it was like boom!

I saw myself running across a dirt road to a man lying in the street, I looked different :my hair was an auburn color ( my hair today is dark brown), I was wearing an off white dress. It was in the mid or late 1800's.

When I reached this man in the street I knelt down and craddled his head in my lap and it was strange because I knew this man was my entire world, everything I lived for and I knew he was dying. He had been shot in the back.

As I held his head I saw his features;he did not look like Jimmy but there were many similarities. His hair was blond, it was long, he had a mustache, his eyes were the same piercing blue just like the man I met at the party. Yet the facial features were different.

It was the Eyes! It was the soul that dwelled behind those eyes;they were one and the same. I could see the wind whipping his hair about his face, I could taste the dust in my throat from the road, I could feel the wind on my face ( all the windows down in my home, middle of winter in Michigan)but it was the emotions, oh man..

I have had nothing in this lifetime to compare to the agony I was reliving at that moment! I know what I was thinking in that past life at the moment my world was shattered and I know that the person I was then did not want to go on without the man she was holding in her arms.

I know what she was thinking and what she was going to do. I don't really know why this past life memory surfaced, except maybe to show my soul that you can not escape life, to perhaps let the person I was in that lifetime know that I'm still here!

Kayla.
 
Returning to the same family

When Augie was 1 1/2 to 2 yrs old, his dad was changing his diaper, and Augie said very simply, "when I was your age, I used to change YOUR diaper." This is the first time he said was something unusual.

When my son was born in Dec, 1995, he was named for my husband's father, Grandpa Augie, who died June, 1994. He mentioned several times over the following months that he used to do things "when I was your age" or "when I was big".

Now and then, when Augie (we call him "Gus" also) meets someone for the first time, he often says, "Hi! I'm Gus. I used to be Grandpa Augie." I think he is selective about who he says this to, but I can't be sure.

Recently I asked, "when you were Grandpa Augie, did you own a store?" I thought he would perhaps describe the business Grandpa owned when he died, but his answer was, "Yep! I owned a grocery store." His grandpa had in fact owned a grocery store many, many years before.

Augie was sitting in the backseat of the car playing with a new toy which had a propeller on it, and he said very excitedly, "Hey! When I was Grandpa Augie, I used to invent things! I invented propeller shoes!" My husband confirmed that, yes, his dad had indeed invented something with propellers, but it was a backpack type of thing made to look like a jet pack. Augie answered back, "well, I made the shoes in the garage when you weren't looking." Grandpa Augie was forever tinkering in his garage--his favorite place to invent things.

At a restaurant last week, Augie whispered to me..."ya know mom, I have an imaginary friend."

Me: "you do? what's your imaginary friend's name?"
Augie: "uh...his name is Augie, like my name!"
Me: "Oh...how old is Augie?"
Augie: "He's like a man."
Me: "oh, what color is his hair?"
Augie: "white."
Me: "Where is he?"
Augie: (points at the empty chair across from us) "He's right there!" Me: "what's he doing here?"
Augie: (he leans in and whispers in my ear) "He's having dinner with us!"

Later, Augie mentions that his imaginary friend had to go home, because "I'M Grandpa Augie, y'know".

My husband was getting breakfast for Augie one morning, and Augie insisted that he mix two kinds of cereal together. His Grandpa always ate his cereal that way.

Me: "Did you have any brothers and sisters when you were Grandpa Augie?"
Augie: "yeeesss...(laughing) my sister turned into a fish!"
Me: "How did that happen?? Who turned her into a fish?"
Augie: "Some bad guys. She died." (Note: Grandpa did have a sister, who was murdered, and her body was dumped into the San Francisco Bay and never found. Grandpa could not eat fish for a long time because of that awful tragedy).
Augie: (he says this like it's the coolest thing ever) "when we die, God lets us come back again! I used to be big, and now I'm a kid again!!"

Whenever I ask Augie something about Grandpa Augie, little Augie always replies very insistently, "Moooom, I'M Grandpa Augie!"

I believe that my father-in-law has returned in the form of my son, and I believe he has a very specific reason for choosing to do so. When my husband was growing up (and all through his adult life), his father worked so hard that he didn't have time to "love" his son. Now, every morning, little Augie gets up insists, first thing, that he has "snuggle time" with his dad. It is a very important and special time they share every morning.

Cathy

This post and discussion are continued in the thread: "when I was your age..."
 
My mother and I have shared the same dream for years

My mother and I have been haunted by the same dream for years. We both dream we're in this enormous house with many rooms. However, we are forbidden from the third floor of the house. It is completely off limits. We both dream that we sneak to this third floor anyway, and when we view the rooms we are shocked and amazed to discover that this part of the house exists. Every room is fully decorated, but very dusty and abandoned. We literally shake our heads when sharing this repetitive dream. It has haunted us both for years.

I underwent hypnosis and discovered the lifetime that the shared dream was alluding to. My mother and I had been sisters in a previous lifetime. We lived in an enormous plantation house in Virginia (Charlottesville area/Shanendoah Valley). Our father was a slave owner, and we were extremely wealthy. As sisters, our father forbade us from the third floor of the house, which may have had a secret entrance. Our mother was dead, having died of consumption. Under hypnosis, I also recalled our slaves running away. I was horribly distressed that our father would find them and kill them. One returned (who was my favorite), and my father shot him.

After my hypnosis session, I questioned my mother separately re: her impressions of our shared dream. Her conscious recollections precisely matched the details I uncovered under hypnosis. She remembered that we were sisters and that it was our father who forbade us from the third floor. She also remembered that we had lived in Virginia. My name from that lifetime was Abigail Martin, and my father's name was Thomas Martin.


What's interesting about my regression to this time period is that I had really loved one of our slaves like a father. He was an older slave and he paid attention to me, whereas my own father from that time, did not. When this slave ran away, he came back for some reason. Under hypnosis, I looked into his eyes, and stated in surprise, "Oh, he is my soul mate". When my father shot him I was absolutely devastated. In fact, I became ill shortly thereafter and died at the age of 15.

This post and discussion is continued in the thread Shared experiences
 
Together several times

My partner and I had a very rocky relationship in a past life in the middle east nine hundred years ago. I was a man who didn't have any respect for women and expected everything to be his way. I gave her a very rough time.

We didn't run into one another again until the 17th century, when my partner was a man with all the cards, and I was a woman with no money or status. However, he was very good to me, and helped me and was very kind. Even though that relationship was brief, it was very healing.

I think being given back good for bad when the roles were reversed made a huge difference. The two times we've met since then have been good. So I do think things can change for the better.

Elzelina
 
Past-life nemesis becomes this-life child

My father in this life sexually abused me while I was growing up... starting around age 11 and ending 18 or so, when I told him, "Never again." Eventually I sued him and he settled for a substantial sum. Four months later he died, of lung cancer.

My four-year-old son Raphael, or Raphi for short, was conceived literally within days of my father's death. It may seem strange that I know the date of conception -- May 21, 1997 -- but not the date of death, somewhere from a week to three weeks before that... Basically, I know the conception date because I am a lesbian, and we plan these things... and I don't know the death date because my father had become so estranged from the rest of my family, that his common-law widow (not my mother) didn't even inform us of his death, and the family friend who told us wasn't certain of the date.

Anyway, that closeness of timing made me wonder... could my son be my father, reincarnated? That was too awful a thing to contemplate, and so I put it out of mind for a couple of years.

In 2000 my own past life memories started coming up, and after some months of work on it, I revisited this issue. A friend who is a muscle-testing expert not only muscle-tested me, but several other people to get independent confirmations, before she told me: yes, Raphi was indeed the reincarnation of my father.

All I felt at first was horror. Horror that my beautiful little child was the same consciousness as that miserable sociopathic old monster... horror that I was sure to fall short in loving him as a mother should, because how could I love him knowing that? Horror that I'd ever opened up this can of worms; I felt I'd have been better off never knowing. I wondered, why the heck would I let him back into my life as my child? One friend, a spiritual healer and homeopath, told me, "He came back to learn love at your breast," and that was a nice possibility, but... but...! I wasn't sure I could keep that up.

But then something amazing happened, when Raphi was two or three.

My father had never denied that he did what he did, at least until lawyers were involved. But he also never ever apologized for it to me. I was waiting -- not with much hope, but keeping the possibility open in my mind -- and he went to his grave without saying "Sorry."

My partner Shirley, who is a shiatsu therapist, was doing shiatsu work on me, trying to get me to release some emotion; and what the emotion was about, as it turned out, was my father and the incest. Meanwhile Raphi was playing around us as usual, but he seemed to be in a little distress.

As a rule he is not a very verbal boy, as he has autism, and he was much less so then than now. So I thought at first he was babbling, as he often did, when he said, "I'm sorry." But he kept saying it, emphatically -- "I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" -- until Shirley and I both realized what he was saying. Then he said, "I never said it."

We were both stunned. I was torn between disbelief, and tears of relief and joy that I barely allowed myself to shed, due to the disbelief. But there was no denying it; we'd both heard him say it, repeatedly, and at the appropriate time. And he'd transcended his autism to do it, too.

I guess I could accept it as a miracle because my life had become full of miracles by then.

I cuddled him as I'd never cuddled him, and told him over and over through my tears, "I love you." My fear that I would fail in the love department was cured; it became easy, again, after that, and has been since. Nor have I been bothered by emotional residue from the incest. I guess he paid off a big karmic debt right then. Well, why wait?

Everyone should have at least one such beautiful moment in their lives...

Love & peace,
Karen

This post and discussion is continued in the thread Past life nemesis becomes this-life child
 
My cousin, my sister

From the time my cousin was born my mother and father and my sister and I always felt like she was in the "wrong" family you know?

She also felt the same and whenever she came to visit she never wanted to go home. She even moved in with my mother when she got into high school because she was so close to us. I

believe that my immediate family have been family before because we were all so very close. I remember we never had the aruguments and quarrels that most familys do. We did everything together and it always felt so good to be together.

So in turn I believe that my cousin was also a part of our family, except this time she is not.

I can remember when she was little she would say things like: "Remember when we were sisters? "and "I wish it was like it used to be" and we would ask her "when baby?" and she would say something like "when we all used to live together a loooong time ago".

We all would get chills sometimes listening to her. She used to say that she was my sister a long time ago before now. I would say well I would like for you to be my sister but what would your mommy say and she just shook her head and said no, not now I mean a long time ago before we were separated.

She used to tell us that we had a brother a long time ago but he was gone now.

LadyLania
 
My grandmother's two sons

My mother's eldest brother died at the age of 3 of pneumonia. My grandma was knitting a red sweater for him then. After he died she finished knitting that sweater and gave it to her nephew instead.

The day my mother's eldest brother died one uncle of hers who travels a lot had come suddenly to visit. They do not have any picture of this uncle and since he comes rarely he is not much discussed. Now this uncle when he came was of course very sad to hear of the little childs' death.

When they had to bury the body my grandpa was emotionally overcome and held on to the body refusing to let go. This uncle had to do the unpleasant task of taking the body forcibly from him and start the burial. He went back after a few days and had not visited them for quite sometime.

A couple of years later my grandma got another son...my mothers second eldest brother. (My mother was born some years after that). The story concerns him. When that nephew wore the red sweater and came to their house he started pulling it saying this sweater was intended for him. Everyone was surprised but ignored it thinking red is an attractive colour for any child.

Then one day he was playing outside with his friends in the playground when suddenly he saw a man enter the street leading to the neighbourhood. This was the same uncle and this second son had never seen him before. However moment he saw him he ran terrified to my grandfather and said, "Look, there he has come again! Last time he snatched me from you and threw me on the ground...I got hurt on my head!"......

My second uncle also died at the age of 25.
 
Did I really recognise my PL husband at 10yrs old?

When I was 10yrs old, my mum took my brother and I along to a DIY store because we needed to get some wood cut to size. There was a part of the store where this happened and you could stand against a barrier and watch while men cut wood on big machines. I was standing there fairly disinterested when I noticed a blonde man (about 32yrs old) at the back cutting some wood. I'll never forget the words that went through my head...."Oh my God, it's my husband!". In retrospect, this in itself is utterly bizarre - why would I say that? Why would I even imagine it?

I was suddenly swamped by feelings that I didn't understand and that I had no choice but to feel. The over-riding feeling was that I couldn't let him see me and I subsequently edged behind my mum. I can't recall if I thought he'd instantly recognise me or if I was unsure about whether he could see through the 10yr old exterior to who I really was. I've a strong feeling it was the latter.

From the relatively safe position of behind my mum, I couldn't take my eyes off him. I still felt very attracted to him but at the same time was repulsed by him and knew I shouldn't find him attractive. I wanted to tell my mum because I wanted to get out of there - I felt sick and strange but I couldn't tell her. And this is where my 10yr old confusion kicks in.....Carol has written before that when children don't understand a PL experience, they get confused and the child thinks that the past life and the present life are the same - this is what happened to me. I couldn't tell her because I thought she'd be furious with me for being married at such a young age and for having had sex (which of course I hadn't). I thought she'd disown me and think I was vulgar if she knew.

We left the store and went home and I clearly remember sitting on a chair for hours staring out of the window that afternoon trying to understand what had happened and to be honest, I felt dirty and disgusted because I couldn't seem to separate the adult married PL from my 10yr old self. It's so hard to explain because looking back I should have known that I couldn't possibly be married but at the time I was utterly confused. If only I had known what it was.

I never did tell my mum until I read Carol's book about 8yrs ago and bit the bullet. She was quite shocked but more upset that I didn't tell her at the time. Thankfully, she understood why.

Since that strange day, the only other insights I've had is the vague feeling that that marriage was abusive and when I think of that man, I link him with a log cabin (?). I hate the smell of cut wood and I assume that it's because I have imprinted those shocking feelings of that day onto the smell of cut wood that was there at the time.
 
My niece was my past life child

Since i can remember i have had that same "longing" for someone, but rather than a mother it was a child.

this longing stopped when my sister had her second child in 2002. i reconised the baby as soon as i saw her.

My sister was living at home at the time, and when she came home from the hospital, i felt as if i should take over. i was the first to pick her up if she cried, i changed her nappy, gave her her bottle etc. luckily i realised that even if this baby was once my child, she is not any more, she is my sisters baby so i began to relax in the comfort that i can still get to see her grow up and i can still be a part of her life.

this baby is now nearly three years old and i haven't seen her for a few months but the bond between us does not go away. my neice feels just as close to me as i do her.
 
Recognition of a past love

From being a small child I felt that I was connected to someone "out there". There were times when I'd sit somewhere quiet and ...well, feel things.

Often a huge sense of loss, as if I had lost everyone I loved and been thrown into this little body already grieving. I'd also pick up accents, my favourites being Scottish and Cockney (London).

But also there was this connection, it was like trying to discern one instrument playing in a whole orchestra.

As I got older I began to dream about this other person, I felt they were on the physical, and were growing up like I was, but unaware of me.

There were dreams of making love with a man with long, soft hair which tickled my face. I was only 10 or 11 but it felt like a memory, all the senses present.

I was pretty sure that both the connection I'd felt, and the dream man were the same person in different incarnations. I also felt that the previous life was in Scotland (odd little dreams, running through heather between a large hill\small mountain, and the sea, building a home from stone and wood with a man who's face I could never quite catch..)

I was 26 when I met him, by a series of odd coincidences. I had been asked to do some designs for a tattooist, a friend of a friend. I went to meet this tattooist in a biker pub, my local, where he was going to be tattooing in a quiet corner.

As I walked in, my eyes fell on the guy he was working on, and I recognised a face I had been painting, drawing and dreaming for years.

I sat in a corner, drawing dragons and angels, wondering if I was quite mad, and after a while I looked up and there he was. He'd seen me drawing, come to see what it was, and struck up a conversation.

The weird thing was, when he spoke I thought he was Scottish, then I realised he had a London accent. It was like talking to someone you knew years ago and thinking "My God, you've really lost your accent!" Like they are so familiar but the world has changed them a bit whilst you weren't there.

It took a year or so for us to be together, he was living with someone when I first met him, so I tried to forget it. By chance, a year later, I bumped into him and he was free, we've now been together 8 years. He was born 9 days before me, moved to Yorkshire at 16. to a house which I walked past every day on the way to school..

This post and discussion is continued in the thread Past loves
 
My daughter may be my brother

When my daughter was three I was giving her a bath when she suddenly said in a very matter of fact voice, " I remember when I was a boy and I was old and sick". I was too stunned to ask her any questions but my brother died of cancer at 42 which would seem "old" to a young child. At that time I hadn't mentioned him to her because she was so young and his death four and a half years earlier was still very hard for me to talk about.

She didn't mention it again, but shortly after that she started dictating poetry for me to write down. My brother was a poet. Her little poems were quite good and were published in a local children's paper. She's a teenager now and although she does knows about my brother, it's hard to explain away some of the similarities that keep popping up. For instance one day she came into my room and read me her "favorite" poem.

It was the same ee cummings poem that my brother had identified as his favorite, but she didn't know that. One day we were in a thrift store and she saw a set of old encyclopedias and nearly went into a frenzy to have them. She couldn't explain why she wanted them, but I bought them for her and to this day they just sit in her room. What she didn't know is that my brother had found a set of encyclopedias at a thrift store and before he died he asked me to try and find a couple of the missing volumes. Her favorite movie is Amadeus, a movie my brother saw just before he died and loved very much. My brother loved music and played classical music all the time. When my daughter was little she said she heard symphonies in her head and even cried once and told me they were driving her crazy.

Since then she has grown into an incredible singer/songwriter. There are so many more similarities and coincidences. I know this is not proof of anything since it could all be chalked up to a very powerful case of genetics, but It gives me something to think about. Certainly if my brother could have come back to me he would have. If not, then I have the most wonderful daughter who is blessedly similar to my beloved brother.

This post and discussion are continued in the thread: talented daughter displays most of the signs
 
My mother then is my mother now

I have distant memories of dying in my mother's arms.

The really weird thing is that the mother from that memory is the same one I have in this life, her hair was different - pulled tightly across her head but her face was the same.

I was a little girl, I knew I was very ill, I had a fever and I remember pain across the skin of my whole body. I think I must have told her not to get near me because I didn't want to make her ill too.

I recall her saying to me that she didn't care, that if she lost me she didn't want to go on. We were in an attic room, like the inside of a thatched roof.

I remember when I passed, I was wide awake and terrified but it felt like I was falling into a deep sleep I had no control over.

James
 
My past life brother is now my Dad

I remembered this a few weeks ago. I was a young girl, about 9 or 10 years old. I was wearing a dirty, grey dress with a white frilly pinny thing that had dried mud on the front. My feet were in black boots and my toes were hurting so Im guessing the boots were too small for me.

I was in a very dark wood panelled room which I believe was a room above a boarding house or pub and it wasn't a very reputable one.

My hair was in a platt but I had hair all over the place and the platte was messy.

I was standing near the edge of the bed which was raised from the floor and had some blankets on it. It was a coarse blanket which a white-ish coloured one underneath. I felt these blankets were somehow rare for me to see or for the person to use who was in the bed because we were so poor.

The room was very dark. I believe there was a small window directly above the bed with dirty curtians which were probably stips of sheet hanging there to block out the sunlight.

I was crying and my face was streaked with mud. There was a man in the bed and he was dressed in black or nearly black trousers and jacket. I think he had a greyish or dirty beighe colour socks with black pointed shoes on. He was clutching his chest and his face was soaked in sweat. I carried on crying and touched his hand. I cant remember what I said but he looked straight into my eyes and smiled at me and spoke in a strong accent. He told me "not to worry and we'll be together again because the good lady Mary is on our side"

I didn't feel like we were religious. I believe the man was about 19 and he was my big brother. He was trying to reassure me. I was so scared and didn't want him to go.

His clothing had dried mud on it like mine and I felt that we didn(t live in the room. That we were so poor we just walked the dirty, muddy streets looking for work and went days without eating.

It was very cold weather so must have been winter. I think it was a village town or near a village. The man had dark brown hair that was much closer to black. His skin was tanned and his eyes were shining with humour. I carried on standing next to him, crying and begging him not to leave.

He said something about getting myself a nice little position in a big house as a servant and find myself a nice lad who will look after me. He then repeated what he said earlier about we'd be together again and then he leaned back on the bed and his breathing became fast like he was panting but laboured. The bleeding started slowing down and then he died.

I woke up from this dream looking around for this man and feeling like it had just happened and my heart was broken. And the weird thing was the man in the bed was my dad and he still looked almost the same to the above PL memory. It explains my dads and myselfs bond that we had.
 
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