"When I was your grandmother, I told you not to do that."
And then I walked away.
At the time, my mother had one living grandmother (called Big Grandma because my oldest cousin couldn't say "great", which is awesome because she was a wee tiny lady), and one deceased one. Who had told her not to do that. I guess because the glasses fog up or something.
A few days or weeks later, we were at my grandparents' house and my mother told her father (the son of the deceased grandmother) that she had something to show him. Then she washed some glasses, put them upside down on a towel and I came along and said the same exact thing.
My extremely Catholic grandfather's reaction?
"There are things in Heaven and Earth that we're not meant to understand."
And that was that. My mother has since has no doubt that I used to be her grandmother and has even come to find it not freaky or terrifying at all.
You know what is freaky?
My cousin/godson was once driving around the neighborhood with his parents, spotted a house and said, "I remember when we used to live there." He had never stepped foot in that house. To this day, he has lived in only one house. The house he pointed out is the one where our grandfather and his 3 brothers used to live. With their mom, who I used to be.
I keep thinking I'll do some sort of writing project inspired by all this. Nothing as ambitious as The Years of Rice and Salt (which is a great book that you should totally read), but something.
And for the record, I do sometimes wash glasses and put them upside down on a towel to dry. So apparently, people can change. Even if it takes a reincarnation or two.