My only child was killed in an accident at age 5. I adopted a baby girl two years later after being told I’d never give birth again. Three years later I gave birth to my second son.
When my first son died, I had a large portrait painted of him. It has hung on my wall since 1977 when my son died.
My second son, four years ago, gave me my first grandchild – a little boy. The day he was born, I was shocked that his face was that of my first don. My two sons had different fathers also.
Last summer my grandson and I were eating lunch when accidentally he called me mom instead of grandma. I laughed and said, wrong name, I’m grandma. He pointed his finger at me and stated, you’re my mom. I told him no, I was his daddy’s mom.
When we got in the living room, he pointed to my deceased sons photo and said, that’s me when I got bigger. I told him no, that’s your daddy’s brother.
He pointed his finger at me and said, I was in two mamas tummies. I told him, no, he was in only one mama’s belly. He again pointed his finger and stated, you’re my mom when I was bigger.
This has happened three times now. When I asked him what his mama’s name was he gave my daughter in law name. I asked, what’s the name of the other mom’s belly you were in? He said he doesn’t know her name….yet.
A few weeks later he told me he had something to tell me. I said ok. He then told me he loves me very, very much and he wants to live with me and paw paw. I told him he lives with his parents. He told me he never wants me to die because he loves me too much. Then he said he knows Mimi (his other granda) loves him and he loves her too but his love for me is special.
He is still saying he was in two mama’s tummies and he was here before when he was bigger.
And the real kicker is that he has the same face of my deceased son. Everyone who knew my first son sees it. I hear it all the time how much this little guy looks like me, same as my first son did.
I’m pulled to wonder how a three year old can keeping the things that he is. And why he thinks the portrait is of him when he got bigger.
My first son’s favorite color was orange. So is my grandsons. When I asked why he loves orange colored clothes, he replies, I don’t know why, I just do.
Is something going on here? Is it possible my son and grandson somehow is entwined? I’ve got to find out and be given an explanation of what’s going on.
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