I_am_a_dreamer
New Member
... what if it happened the other way around?
My Granny got old and had to move out of her home and into a retirement center, sell her home and give her things to her children or auction them off.
My dad took a picture. A portrait of a young woman I'd never seen before, gazing up into the sky, a distant look in her eyes.
The first time I saw her, I stopped and sat in front of her, looking her over and over. She was so familiar. I recognized her. She had my chest. Or I had hers. They were exactly the same. I looked in the mirror and struck the pose she was in and looked at myself. I looked back at her. Exactly the same.
I found myself thinking about what kind of a person she would have been, and the answers came to me easily, as if I was asking questions about myself, and I already knew the answers. Before I knew it, I stopped thinking of us as different people. We were the same person. We even looked almost exactly the same.
She is one of my ancestors from a very, very long time ago. Is this history repeating itself?
My Granny got old and had to move out of her home and into a retirement center, sell her home and give her things to her children or auction them off.
My dad took a picture. A portrait of a young woman I'd never seen before, gazing up into the sky, a distant look in her eyes.
The first time I saw her, I stopped and sat in front of her, looking her over and over. She was so familiar. I recognized her. She had my chest. Or I had hers. They were exactly the same. I looked in the mirror and struck the pose she was in and looked at myself. I looked back at her. Exactly the same.
I found myself thinking about what kind of a person she would have been, and the answers came to me easily, as if I was asking questions about myself, and I already knew the answers. Before I knew it, I stopped thinking of us as different people. We were the same person. We even looked almost exactly the same.
She is one of my ancestors from a very, very long time ago. Is this history repeating itself?