Recalling the Past

We don't recall the days that have no substance to them. When we remember the past we recall memories that left impressions in our lives, whether the memories were filled with pain, happiness, or anger.

I'm beginning to realize that the memories I'm recalling from my first life must have some kind of meaning that I need to recognize. The fact that there seems to be a pressing matter to remember my past if angels have been around to aid me in this task. I've just been curious in the selective memories I've been recalling that seem to hold no importance what so ever but if they are being shown to me, there is something to be learned.

"Carwyn can I sleep with you again?" I question hugging tightly onto two pillows that barely fit in my four year old arms. I stand at the side of his bed that seems to be big for him, peering over the tops of the feather filled bundles.

Carwyn groaned slightly with tiredness, lifting his body up heavily to a sitting position. I could barely see the blue hue of his half open eyes. "Father is going to get angry at you if you do."

My mind flashed an image of father's frustrated face when he found out that I had slipped into my twin's bed once again the other night. For unknown reasons father began to separate Carwyn and I more often lately especially when it came to sleeping arrangements. I didn't understand why father was doing this and I didn't feel the same safe comfort by myself. Only with Carwyn did I feel safe enough to sleep. I was willing to risk father's anger if that meant I could sleep soundly with Carywn. "I don't care," I murmured with stubbornness, frowning.

A soft sigh escapes his lips, and slumps back down into the bed. "I don't mind."

Smiling at his answer, I toss the pillows onto the bed and crawl over the side. Carwyn watches as I shift my pillows around to my liking before settling down into the bed, curling up close to Carwyn. Carwyn molds to my positioning, leaning his head gently against mine and holds one of my hands. "Good night..." Almost instantly, I slipped unconscious with the comfort that I had been yearning since the beginning of the night.





I stirred awake when I felt myself being shifted around I felt a different type of warmth that was different from Carwyn but familiar all the same.

"Momma," I slurred, my tone still thick with sleep barely able to open my eyes. I could feel her hand running through my hair in comfort, coxing my eyes to slip close again.

"My beautiful daughter," she greeted back feeling her kiss the top of my head. Her voice always reminded me of honey; smooth and sweet. 

I could feel myself being exchanged into another pair of arms that were strong and steady. Instantly I knew it was my father's but he didn't give off the aura of frustration or anger which soothed away any worries I had floating around in the thicket of sleep. I curled further into the safety of his arms, curling my fingers into the fabrics of his blouse. I could feel the scruf covering his lower face against my skin as he kissed my forehead. "I don't understand why you can stay in your own bed," he murmured softly. He's walking and I can feel the warmth on my back from the sun; I guessed through the sleepy haze he was standing by the window. 

"They're twins dear, they must get lonely without each other," I hear mother offer. With difficulty I manage to open my eyes a little again. Mother has Carwyn curled up in her lap, fingers playing his hair.

I hear father heavy sigh. He walks towards the bed again tightening his hold on me before he sits down on the bed. "Mm... tired," I mumble into his shirt wanting to slip back to sleep.

His chest vibrates from his chuckle. "Then sleep little one." I do as I am told and return to the dream scape.