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Thinking of You

Mammatus

A Squid With a Rocketship
So...It's been a while. And anyway. I had a meditation session the other night where I went back to my Russian PL. I was taken to a very painful time for me from a time during 1943, I believe.

I was almost finished with putting on my uniform for another day at being a guard, and was about to walk out the door of my Moscow apartment when the phone rang. It was an older phone, similar to the rotary model. It was a brownish color, sort of a faded red.

I lifted the phone to my ear in confusion, who could be calling me now?

I was surprised to find that it was my own mother, all the way back in Novosibirsk. Her words were hard to understand, as she mumbled and sounded as if she had been crying. She only managed my brother's name (Dmitriy, I believe, but I could be wrong) and said "he's dead".

I knew my brother was fighting in WW2. He was in the Red Army afterall. But the words that my mother had managed sent a shockwave through my body. We were both very close my brother and I, and I had assumed that the lack of letters he usually sent me was because he just didn't have time.

"N-No...No....That's...That's a lie!" I yelled, barely containing myself. My mother tried to console me, but it I hung up the phone on her. I couldn't talk. I couldn't breathe. I sunk to the floor in desperation.

"It's got to be a lie..." I whispered, tears falling down my cheeks. I pulled my legs into my chest and buried my head in my knees, sobbing uncontrollably. This wasn't happening......

Then the memory faded out and then back in.

.......................
I was back home in Novosibirsk, and found out to my relief that he was simply MIA. My sister was there, and we all eagerly awaited news about my brother. Days went by, and finally one night, we were given a letter. My father opened it tentitavely, and no sooner had he read than he had slammed it down on the dinner table and stared out the window where no one could see him. A few silent sobs wracked his body, although he tried to compose himself. My sister dived for the letter, and began to read it out loud.

I didn't want to hear it. I knew what it meant. I left the room in a hurry and stood outside looking at the stars.

"Please God....Bring him back to us...To me...." I prayed silently, a few stray hot tears running down my cheeks. I couldn't help but feel partially responsible for his demise, even if I knew it wasn't my fault. I felt a hand on my shoulder, and turned to see my mother standing there, with a worried expression on her face.

"He's not coming back--Is he?"

Those were the last words I managed before breaking down in my mother's arms, violent tremors surging through my body with each attempt at holding back tears. It was no use.

I don't believe it ever sunk in. For days afterward, and even after I returned to Moscow, I expect a letter to be waiting for me. I looked out the window, expecting to see him come strolling up the road. When it didn't happen, I was reminded of why, and I would do my best at holding back tears. I had a job to do and had to stay composed.

Besides. Soviet men are supposed to cry.


When I was brought out of meditation...I was crying. A lot. In honesty, I don't think I've cried that hard over a PL memory since my memory about my daughter in my Roman PL.

And although I know that this was in the past of a past persona...I still miss him. A lot. I sometimes wonder though, if he's still around somewhere and I just don't know it. I don't know. Maybe that's just wishful thinking.
 
Is there anybody, like a medium or something, that can learn if a certain person has been reincarnated?


I know they're controversial for most people, but we used a Ouija board to learn about a friend who had passed on. We were wondering why we didn't feel his spirit around us anymore. The board told us he was living in Morgan Hill, California and gave us a street address. It described what he would look like and what his name would be. We drove to that street that weekend and saw a boy playing outside. He was maybe 5 or 6, the amount of time since we last felt our friend around. We slowed the car down. It was a car our friend would have recognized when he was alive. The boy looked up, then ran to the sidewalk and waved with a huge smile. We waved back and drove on. It would be awkward for a car load of adults and teens to pull over and strike up a conversation with a small boy! What would we tell the parents? "Your son used to hang out with us and we were just touching bases..."?


I don't know if there's anyway to find out the status of a soul.
 
Shiftkitty,


Ouija boards scare me. Right to the very core of my being.


Have you done an internet search on the information you have been given? Does it all match? How about a quick call to the local library and check out the city directory?


Be careful. Checking out a little kid is considered creepy in most parts of civilization, and I doubt a judge would ever believe that a ouija board sent you there to contact the spirit of your dead friend.


Just sayin ....


That said, I am sure someone will stop in with the information you are seeking. Please do not think this is an attack post, it is not. I am merely requesting that you are very careful in your search. {{Hugs}}
 
We felt no need to continue. Our friend had reincarnated and seemed to have recognized us when we drove by. A quick check of a phone book later revealed the family name matched the address. It was enough for us. If he chooses to seek any of us out later, cool. If not, then he is on a new path and we wish him well.


I am not a good conduit for a Ouija board, so I don't have one anymore. It would be pointless for me to have one. I grew up with a Ouija board in the house, and I haven't had the experiences that many people have had, so my outlook on them is different from many.
 
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