After Death Communication
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Near Death Experiences
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Reincarnation Stories
Memories from the Past

When my son Josh was just two years old and barely talking, we were in our back yard digging post holes for a fence. We lived in a home that had been built in the late 1800's, back in the day when they used to bury their garbage in the back yard. While my husband was digging, we saw him hit some items with the shovel.

He stopped, reached down into the hole and, among other things, pulled out a small round glass jar;it looked like a baby food jar but it had an extra half moon shaped loop of glass attached just inside the opening of the jar.

As my husband cleared the dirt away from it, we could see that it was an old fashioned ink well, fully intact. Nobody said anything other than, "Hey, that's neat!" But my two-year-old son pointed at it and said clearly, like it was no big deal, "That's for ink." How could he know that?

Also, at about three to four years of age he kept asking why we named him Josh, claiming that his name was actually Jack. He is currently 24 and has no memory of this.

Now I have a grandson. When he was three years old, he and I were in the living room. I had the TV on and he was playing with his toys on the floor. Someone on the TV said,"New York." He popped up and said very excitedly, "New York? I used to live in New York! And I had big muscles!" He smiled like he was having a fond memory, then just as quickly went back to playing.

Although I have always heard that reincarnation is not true, I knewdeep down inside from a very young agethat it is. Whatever I did in past lives somehow involved airplanes.Ever since I was very young and even to this day, whenever I see an airplane, I get a feeling like I'm just on the tip of a memory but can't quite grasp it.

And as a very young child I didn't have to be shown how to play baseball or football. In the late 60's and early 70's, I was the only girl out there with all the boys. Throwing, catching, batting and baseball strategy just came easily to me.Even though I was a petite little girl, the guys always made me the quarterback when we played football because I could pass like a pro; I could hit my receivers everytime, anticipating their route and putting the ball right into their hands at the precise moment they turned to catch it. I was just a natural and it felt like I was picking up exactly where I had left off.


Posted April 8, 2013