In what I believe to be my life before this one, I needed crutches as a child.
Her name was possibly Elaine (a name which I had an aversion to as a very small child and didn't know why), but was probably called Lainey (which I've always liked).
I believe she had polio around age 4 or so.
I still remember when I was three talking to my dad (in this lifetime)about some memories I had, and my dad said, no, those were just dreams you had. Yet, the 'dreams' persisted.
Lainey was either orphaned or otherwise without her parents. I was fascinated with the idea of adoption as a little girl, too, because I have very clear memories of being adopted in this other life by a well-to-do woman. She already had another daughter, who was younger than me (Lainey), and her name was possibly Suzanne. She and I became very close sisters.
I didn't know what exactly crippled Lainey until I was five and watching a special on PBS, or something, about a little girl myself who got polio from her vaccination. I had an epiphany. I can still remember thinking as I watched open-mouthed, "She is just like Elaine. She is just like I was."
I think Lainey was born around 1940 and died around 1970 or so. (I had a fear since I was little of dying at that age, which I'm kind of over now.) I think she might have been into alcohol. In this life, I've had such an aversion to alcohol, and I really don't know where it comes from. I mean, just a sip or two of communion wine at church as a teenager would make me nauseous.
I also think that Suzanne may have died young, because when I was around five, I insisted that my youngest brother, 3 and a half years younger than me, had to be a girl, SHOULD have been a girl. I put a dress on him, and put barrettes in his hair. I insisted strongly to my mom that he should be a girl. Maybe it was sort of remembering having a sister, instead.
As long as I can remember, the song "Here comes the Sun" has made me very emotional, and I've always had a sense of 'before' while listening. Several years ago, I heard the song for the first time in a while, and all I could picture was 'bright white' - looking up, going up to the bright white.
I distinctly remember someone singing the song to me in this memory, and I thought perhaps my parents used to sing me the song as a baby. So I called my parents, and quizzed both of them. They had/have no memory of doing so. I thought maybe I had stared up at the ceiling a lot as an infant (and I wasn't one very long - I was walking at 8 months).
Now I think that was the time of the death of Lainey.
Her name was possibly Elaine (a name which I had an aversion to as a very small child and didn't know why), but was probably called Lainey (which I've always liked).
I believe she had polio around age 4 or so.
I still remember when I was three talking to my dad (in this lifetime)about some memories I had, and my dad said, no, those were just dreams you had. Yet, the 'dreams' persisted.
Lainey was either orphaned or otherwise without her parents. I was fascinated with the idea of adoption as a little girl, too, because I have very clear memories of being adopted in this other life by a well-to-do woman. She already had another daughter, who was younger than me (Lainey), and her name was possibly Suzanne. She and I became very close sisters.
I didn't know what exactly crippled Lainey until I was five and watching a special on PBS, or something, about a little girl myself who got polio from her vaccination. I had an epiphany. I can still remember thinking as I watched open-mouthed, "She is just like Elaine. She is just like I was."
I think Lainey was born around 1940 and died around 1970 or so. (I had a fear since I was little of dying at that age, which I'm kind of over now.) I think she might have been into alcohol. In this life, I've had such an aversion to alcohol, and I really don't know where it comes from. I mean, just a sip or two of communion wine at church as a teenager would make me nauseous.
I also think that Suzanne may have died young, because when I was around five, I insisted that my youngest brother, 3 and a half years younger than me, had to be a girl, SHOULD have been a girl. I put a dress on him, and put barrettes in his hair. I insisted strongly to my mom that he should be a girl. Maybe it was sort of remembering having a sister, instead.
As long as I can remember, the song "Here comes the Sun" has made me very emotional, and I've always had a sense of 'before' while listening. Several years ago, I heard the song for the first time in a while, and all I could picture was 'bright white' - looking up, going up to the bright white.
I distinctly remember someone singing the song to me in this memory, and I thought perhaps my parents used to sing me the song as a baby. So I called my parents, and quizzed both of them. They had/have no memory of doing so. I thought maybe I had stared up at the ceiling a lot as an infant (and I wasn't one very long - I was walking at 8 months).
Now I think that was the time of the death of Lainey.