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The Story Of My Uncle


This is probably going to seem very confusing and absolutely impossible. I've mentioned before that I have an uncle, Chris, and he died when he was 14 when he was hit by a drunk driver on the side of the road. I'll give you a bit of back story before I get to the point.

As a child, I was always called Munch, because I can eat as much as I want and not gain any weight. (It's a true gift, let me tell you) But it wasn't my 16th birthday when I visited Chris's grave that I realised he was also called Munch when he was alive, for the same reason.

My family is very Irish, and it really shows. But my middle name (which I've also mentioned before) is Criostoir, which is Gaelic for the name Christopher.

As a kid my grandfather and I never saw eye to eye, he always ignored me because I reminded him of Chris (who was his dead son), but one day we got into a fight and I went on a walk. I was about 8 or 9 at the time, and this was one of the only times he ever showed any emotion towards me. I sat under a tree a few houses down the street, and he came out shaking and yelling at me, saying I had to come back inside. Later that day I asked my mom why I couldn't be under the tree, and she told me my grandfather was scared because that was where Chris died when the car hit him.

Then, again on my 16th birthday, I was up in New York where my family was from, sitting at the house across the street from my grandfather's house. At this point, my grandfather was now dead and the house belonged to another uncle of mine, Bill, but I sat across the street thinking about things I can't remember now, but when I looked down the street to that tree, I had kind of a flash back.

I have flash backs sometimes, I have terrible memory and have a hard time remembering things from farther than a few years, and sometimes I have flashbacks where I completely freeze up and relive the memories.

Anyway, I had a sort of flashback on my 16th birthday, looking at that tree, except I was watching it happen from where I sat across the street. I watched as my uncle Chris walked down the street, and the car veered off the street and slammed into him, killing him, then I watched as his whole family ran out screaming and crying, I saw my mother crying in the doorway and my teenage father running to check it out with my other uncles, Bill and John. This made no sense, because I wasn't there. It all happened in the 70's. But I still watched it all happen right in front of me.

Along with that, people who knew Chris when he was alive always told me throughout my life that I looked like him and reminded them of him.

Now, he's dead. He was killed instantly when the car hit him, I literally watched it happen through some sort of psychic flashback thing, he was absolutely dead. Throughout my life I've had experiences with his spirit, he's watched over me. But I can't see or talk to him, only sometimes when he wants me to, and he's never spoken to me. I've only heard him a few times, and seen him a few more than that. I can't contact him when ever I want to.

Living in a very Irish family, I've always known about old Celtic stories like the Tuatha De Danaan, and the Otherworld, and fairies and sidhe's, and all that. And since none of you know who I am, I feel some what comfortable talking about this here. I believe these old stories of magic islands where gods and fairies live, I believe in the Otherworld and Donn (the leader of the Afterlife who lives in Tech nDuinn). It sounds crazy, I know, but I don't really care about what other people think of my ideas. It makes sense to me, and I just needed to get it out. None of my real life friends know about any of this, even the story of my uncle, they only know the normal parts. They don't know about my flashbacks, or my empathy, only what I let them know. Sometimes I disappear to research more about Celtic mythology and they just think that I'm going to the library to read normal books that normal people read.

Anyway, if you've read this far, thanks I guess. If anyone else believes in the same things as me, you're welcome to comment and tell me.

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The following comments are submitted by users of this site and are not official positions by Please read our guidelines and the previous posts before posting. The author, pa_empath, has the following expectation about your feedback: I will read the comments and participate in the discussion.

laurencat (8 stories) (20 posts)
8 years ago (2016-06-01)
Thank you very much for telling us your story. It is always nice to things off your chest. It is cool that your uncle is watching over you. The history of your family sounds pretty cool. I wish I knew more about my family history. My mother's side of the family is Polish. My mother died of lung cancer when I was fifteen years old. I went to Poland back when I was seven years old, but I do not remember much about that trip. My father's side of the family is German. My father has no clue about his heritage. I would try to your uncle If I were you. It probably does take a lot of energy for loved ones on the other side to communicate with us, but if he is already watching over you, maybe you can try talking to him and see what happens.

I do not know what would happen if my mother visit me now that I am thirty. I probably would not say anything. She would not have understood everything that I have done up until this point. I am probably betting that you and your uncle have more in common than just looks. He probably understands you the best out of all your relatives that have crossed over in the past. This could be the reason why you are able to see him. I hope you find you can establish a deeper relationship with your uncle and the rest of your family. As long you have open heart, then there is no limit to what you can find.

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