When I was just a wee lad, I had an imaginary friend named Binkey (pronounced “bine-key.”) I was so young that I don’t remember, but my mom vividly recalls it. Apparently, he lived in the fireplace. *Cue horror movie music* My mom didn’t seem to find this unusual. Maybe parents were stronger and less paranoid back in the 1980s. If my child claimed an imaginary something lived in our fireplace, I would turn it on full-blast to smoke out the gremlins. And then I’d board up the fireplace and secure it with a padlock… just to sleep well at night.
Of course, I’m only half serious. The truth is that imaginary friends are very common and generally nothing to be feared. Most parents chalk it up to a child’s overactive imagination. Okay, children are imaginative. But what do you say when a child’s imaginary friend has the same name, appearance, and traits as a family member who passed away several years ago? This happens ALL. THE. TIME.
I’ve spoken with hundreds of parents from all walks of life who have seen this happen. Four-year-old Liam is heard talking to an invisible man as he plays with Legos. The parents learn that Liam isn’t scared by the imaginary friend, so they don’t think much of it. After this goes on for weeks, they finally ask if the man has a name. Liam says, “His name is Randy, and he drives a big truck. He used to have one leg, but now he has two again.”
The parents try not to react, but they cannot help but gasp as tears form in their eyes. Little does Liam know that his Grandpa Randy passed away ten years ago. He was a trucker who had a leg amputated later in life. Liam never met Grandpa Randy, and the family never speaks of him. As the parents struggle to find their words, they ask Liam, “Where is Randy now? Is he still playing Legos with you?”
Liam stands to his feet and says, “I don’t know. Can I have a cookie?” With that, he loses interest and walks out of the room.
Of course, this is merely an example. But I could fill a book with similar true accounts. It’s shocking. It’s jaw-dropping. And most of all, it’s comforting. Heaven is a real place, and our souls are immortal. Our loved ones in the afterlife do check in on us. They see what we’re doing. They know what’s happened in our lives since they passed away. Young children offer proof of this.
Why are these “imaginary friends” so prevalent among youngsters? It’s because there’s a magical window of time when a child is finally old enough to verbalize what they’re experiencing but young enough to retain the tremendous psychic abilities they were born with. This magical timeframe occurs during the two years a child is three and four years old.
As children get older, life gets busier, and they become more distracted. Imagination gives way to screen time and play dates with friends. As these psychic children get older, they’re also influenced by the world around them… a world that claims ghosts aren’t real and magic doesn’t exist. This “reprogramming” is even more apparent in families where New Age subjects are considered taboo. With time, the Liams of the world are told not to speak of such things. In my opinion, this is a tragedy.
Children are inherently psychic. It’s a gift that allows them to bridge the gap between life and the afterlife. They often act as messengers, relaying words of wisdom from the spirit world without even realizing they’re doing so.
As parents and grandparents, it’s our job to listen. If you suspect a child in your family is intuitive, I encourage you to ask them open-ended questions. Give them a safe space to share their thoughts and feelings. Do an activity with the child, such as coloring or working on a puzzle together. You’ll find that when their hands are busy with a project, their mind wanders a bit more… increasing the chances they’ll say something interesting. And if the child speaks of imaginary friends or memories from a time and place you don’t recognize… just listen and encourage them to share more.
Sometimes they do, and sometimes they don’t. More often than not, they lose interest and change the subject. But for those brief moments when their frequency is tuned to that of the spirit world, they’re essentially Walkie-Talkies bridging the gap between dimensions. In my opinion, there’s nothing more comforting and inspiring.
I always say that if you’re looking for wisdom, speak to someone under the age of ten. We adults like to pretend we have a good handle on life. But the truth is, the older we get, the further removed we are from the Source we came from. Heaven. The Other Side. The In-between. Whatever you choose to call it, the afterlife is real. It’s a bustling hub of countless souls… some arriving, some departing, some preparing to return to Earth for yet another lifetime. As for the Liams out there, they have only been removed from the Source a few years ago. They still retain the spark, the essence, the knowing that there’s more to our reality than meets the eye.
What happens when we die? Is there life after death? It’s perhaps the world’s greatest mystery. It’s ironic that despite the movies, the books, the documentaries, and the billions of dollars spent studying this phenomenon… perhaps our best proof comes from an imaginary friend playing Legos with a four-year-old.
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Catch ya next time,
Andy
I purchased a 99 yr old house in Sept. 2017. My 3, almost 4 yr old granddaughter stood in front of the fireplace next to me, I was sitting on the floor. We were wadding up papers and tossing them into the fireplace to light the 1st fire in our new home on New Year's eve 2017. My G-daughter volunteered this conversation: "Nana, remember the last time we did this, when we were both little?" I queried, "Honey, this is the 1st time we have lit this fireplace, do you mean at Great Grandma's house?" She insisted, "No Nana!" impatiently with me. She exclaimed, "When we were both little!" I asked, "Do you mean I was only as tall as you are now? (holding my hand up to her height) And it was this exact fireplace?" She said, "Yes, Nana! (Like how can you NOT remember this?!). I clarified her report a few times to her annoyance. Next she said, "Then our Daddy walked down the stairs..." I turned to the stairs at the other end of the room, pointed to them and asked, "Do you mean those stairs right over there?" "Yes NANA!" she demanded, hands on her hips, annoyed at my lack of recollection. I then asked, "Well who was our Daddy, do you know his name?" She rolled her eyes at me and said, "Beau! Our Daddy is Beau." As if I had lost my mind. I responded, "Oh, ok, no wonder he is so bossy to me now. Ha, ha"