Updated: Oct 18, 2019
It was the late 1700s - early 1800s.
I stepped out of a stone build pub with my sister, in long beautiful dresses of the European era. We could hear the movement of water, as the river ran beside us, at the back end of the pub. The darkness light by the amber glow of candle lit street lights.
It was late...far too late for us women to be out and about on our own...and not safe for us to be entering a pub on our own either...but the "reason" was never known.
Hand in hand, my sister and I walked up the cobble stone street, alongside the river, to a bridge on our left, with large archways underneath, but as we walked away from this quiant little pub, we were followed by 5 drunked men. The men followed us to the bridge, not knowing we were aware of their noisy presence, we tried to hide under the archways in the dark, but they followed us in...
Perhaps the rest is not a family tale...but non the less, this memory has haunted me for as long as I could remember. Each stone laid out before the streets, each placement of lights, the flow of the river, the archways...everything, painted clearly in my mind.
But perhaps this was just a random reoccuring dream? A Lucid dream of sorts? More real than the distant memory of a dream?
This picture met the ears of many friends and many journal pages over the years...the details never once changing or shifting. But the thought of where it came from I thought would forever be lost in the knowledge of the universe.
Until one day...
It was 2018 and I had been feeling a pull to the UK for many years, most of my life actually, and as I fell into the excitment of the ancestory DNA test, I was blown away by the results of over 50% from the UK.
I began reaching out to some aquantences in the area, to find out more about things to see and do on my upcoming trip, to explore my anestral bloodline.
It was during this one converstation that changed so much for me.
I had grown quite comfortable with a new friend and we talked daily, mostly about our ancestors and such. But on this particular day, I felt drawn to tell him of this memory or dream that I kept having. I descibed it in detail and even sketched him a picture or the pub, as I had remembered it.
His voice went silent on the othe end of the phone...
He told me to wait a moment, as I sat wondering if I just scared my new friend away with crazy stories.
Bing! My phone beeped and an image come through, an old one...of the EXACT pub in my dreams. He also sent me a newer picture, of the pub and it's newest additions and adjestments.
"Ive been to this pub" he said. "The moment you started describing it, I knew exactly which one it was.
The images had me speechless. Even the archway bridge sat in the old photograph, behind the pub. I knew in that moment, without the shadow of a doubt, that this was the pub, the street, and the bridge, that I had once lived a life around, before.
The next day, I booked our flights and within that week, we were walking the streets of York, England....the very street, along the river, past the pub, and over the archway bridge, that I had once walked many many years ago.
The feeling was unlike anything of this world. Nothing that words could even describe.
The feeling of walking the same steps, that were walked in another lifetime!
I was finally home.
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