My story is unlike any others. My name is Angela Lutman. Not very Irish sounding is it? Hehe My maiden name is Angela Hildebrandt. Even less Irish. I don't know of any relatives in Ireland, I don't have any specific place I need to go back to, nor do I have a lengthy ancestry tree I need to climb. What I'd like to share is kind of.... what we like to refer to is Taboo. The unknown. A topic of great skepticism. Reincarnation. That's my story. And I'm sticking to it. It's completely true and I hope at the end, you'll not only understand why I wanted to share it but agree that such a profound impact on one's self would warrant a win in a contest of this magnitude. So, with that said.... Grab a drink, put your feet up and open your mind to another beautiful piece of this magnificent puzzle we call life. Enjoy.
Hi, my name is Abigail Hildago and this is my story. I own a very small and humble store called 'Abigail's' in a tiny town in Ireland off the coast. I only know this information because my favorite view in the world is the one I see looking out the front door of my shop. All at once I feel the drizzle of rain on my face, the smell of salt water and fish and the sound of loud cracks as the waves crash against the rocks.
What I feel is, is contentment. I don't know if that's a real word but it's my story and that's precisely how I feel. Not many people can say they've ever felt that. Can you? I do. On a daily basis.
My memory was born at the ripe old age of 60. I think. When I look at my hands they're old, dry and rough. Working hands. They are calloused, abused and wrinkly. I'm a wood worker. I make beautiful treasures. Mirrors, bird houses and picture frames. Little houses, trinkets and even a trough or two. I love turning an unsuspecting piece of wood into a beautiful piece of art. Anyway, I digress... I don't have childhood memories nor do I know of my parents. I don't know if I have siblings and I honestly couldn't tell you if I've ever bared any children. My thoughts are filled with my shop, my treasures, what little customers I have and the amazing country that surrounds me. As I stood, once again, in my doorway inhaling the fragrant smells of the wildflowers and mist, I turn towards my shop and for the first time, I see my reflection in the mirror. I gasped. I was looking at myself but, I was so old. My eyes though.... My eyes were exactly the same. And then I woke up.
I was dreaming. A dream I'd never had before, which was odd in itself because I have reoccurring dreams all the time. I just sat there in my bed and tried to make out what this dream was all about. Something was stirring in the pit of my stomach. I remembered this feeling from a long time ago when I used to go away to church camp. I was feeling homesick. To the point of reaching up to my cheeks and feeling tears. What in the world was THAT all about? I was 17 years old and a sophomore in high school when I had that dream. And I never had it again. That was almost 28 years ago. I've only told a handful of people, for obvious reasons, not ready to spend my days in a round, rubber room, licking my reflection off the windows. I now know that I lived in Ireland in a past life. I believe it with every fiber of my being. My name 'Abigail Hildago' came later in a dream. They say you'll always take with you, the first and last initials of your name with every life. And just to remind you of my maiden name: Angela Hildebrandt. Pretty crazy huh? Crazy in all it's glory! So, I guess I DO have relatives there. I DO have a specific place I need to find. And I very much Do have an ancestry tree to climb.
When I came across this once-in-a-lifetime contest, being labeled "crazy" or "just to far out there" flew out of my mind. I really wanted to share my dream with y'all and I greatly appreciate you sticking with it to the end.
My deepest sincerity,
Angela "Abigail Hildago" Lutman.
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