Imaginary Childhood Friends

[Tina]

Not sure if there are any other threads relating to this topic but it's something I'm fascinated by.
Everyone seems to know a child who has imaginary friends - insists on a place being set for them at dinner etc. However, the detail in some of these friends seems amazing. A friend of mine who is a very "normal" guy (whatever that might be) remembers having 2 such friends called "Bode" & "Kink". He can even recall seeing them sitting on the edge of the bath whilst his mother bathed him. He tells me one wore a top hat (which a child of 2 would be pretty unfamiliar with in the mid - 60's) and the other a flamboyant waistcoat. They both vanished just as his younger sister was born when he was about 2-3 years old.
I've heard various theories about these being spirit companions or guardian angels etc. The more I think about it though, the more it unnerves me, especially the detail that my friend can recall in his "friends". Are they imaginary or are they something that comes into the world with a child as companions/ protectors?
Anyone else have any examples or theories about it?

I was at a barbeque when the topic of ghosts came up.My friend had brought her boyfriend with her.He was in his thirties and seemed perfectly stable and bright.He proceeded to talk about when he was about eight,he lived in a house that had a boy and girl close to his age there.Only he could see them.His parents thought he had imaginary friends. Looking back now,he said be is sure they were ghosts.

 

[GNC]

Was half asleep listening to the radio this morning when the DJ (Chris Hawkins) started telling of his niece who had an imaginary friend called Yusimi, who her parents worked out was actually calling herself "You See Me". Her mother thought it was the spirit of her dead grandmother. Makes you wonder if there was some reactive relationship between child and IF.

 

[MorningAngel]

Some interesting things on here.

https://www.reddit.com/r/Paranormal/comments/11hjfow

This one is wonderful.

70 years ago, I used to play with a little boy a few years older than me. He was always down at the bottom of the garden, never inside the house. As I grew older, he was always with me. Never left. In my teens, my sister was given a dog by her boyfriend. It ended up having 10 puppies and was housed in the shed at the bottom of the garden. One night I was woken by the sound of 3 really LOUD knocks on wood, right near my head! Instantly wide awake, I wondered who/what did that? This was the very FIRST time I heard these knocks. Because I was awake, I went down to check the dog. All was well except 1 pup was missing! I looked all around, and found it half frozen under the whelping box. spent some time warming it back up and then put it back with it's Mum. It was just fine.

Many years passed, I was married with 2 kids and a newborn infant son. This particular night he had been really restless and crying. by 5a.m. I was exhausted when he finally fell asleep in his basket. I had just dropped off to sleep when I was woken, again, by 3 really LOUD knocks on wood, again! I dragged myself out of bed and checked on the older children first. They were snug and sound asleep. I was just about to lay my head down again when I decided to check on the baby in the basket. When I did, I could see his was BLUE IN THE FACE! I snatched him up immediately and the force of my action caused him to take a big deep breath in! To this very day I am certain that those 3 knocks on wood saved his life. There was a couple more, less dramatic incidence when the 3 really LOUD knocks on wood woke me up.

Some years later, I was attending a Spiritualist Church meeting when a very Psychic lady asked me who the male Spirit was by my side? He's all dressed in White which means he was never born on this plain." She said ".. he comes with great brotherly love for you! Who is he?" I assured her I had no knowledge of who he was. She then said "Ask your mother!" I did!

She burst into tears and told me about how she and father got pregnant and had to get married, the boy baby died just before birth. They hid their 'shame' from the rest of us by never mentioning him again. They had named him Michael Patrick.

Suddenly I fully knew and understood who my 'imaginary' play mate was all those years ago and still was with me as a grown man. Michael went on to save my life when I was in my mid 30's. I was sleeping in a little shack, in the middle of Winter. I'd loaded up the open fire place with wood, hoping that there would be some red embers still there when I woke in the morning. Then went off to bed, shutting the lounge room door.

Some time in the night a burning log had rolled out, onto the carpet and was smoldering away filling the room with smoke. 3 really LOUD knocks on wood woke me up and when I opened the door, I was nearly overcome by smoke. I firmly believe that it was Michael that woke me up and saved my life that night.

There was another 4 incidents when Michael's 3 really LOUD knocks on wood woke me in the middle of the night, each time averting an accident. After my 4th child was born 30 3 years ago, I never heard or saw Michael again. I believe that he came back as my 4th child because we have an exceedingly strong psychic connection, even though he now lives on the other side of the Earth from me.

 

[Delightful]

I wonder to what degree there's a cross-over between childhood imaginary friends and adult tulpas? And, for that matter, with religious experiences?

 

[escargot]

I believe that he came back as my 4th child because we have an exceedingly strong psychic connection, even though he now lives on the other side of the Earth from me.

Reminds me of my mother's former boss's family story: Boss woman had a son who died in an accident, aged about 7.
She also had a daughter who grew up and had a family.

When Boss woman went to a psychic, she was told that she'd lost a beloved son very young but all was well as he'd been born back into the family as her grandson.

Boss woman was an unsentimental and temperamental character, the last person I'd've expected to hear this from.

 

[Ghost In The Machine]

I had an imaginary friend til I was about 5. I'd only see him in the henhouse. We'd go there at night to shut the hens in to keep them safe from foxes, and my dad and I used to sit in there sometimes as you could see what we called "glow worms" - not sure what they were but that's what my dad called them. Maybe the same thing as a firefly, I dunno. (Not seen them ever again in my life just in that wooden hen hut).

And then I'd often go on my own or stay after we'd herded in the chickens, and just sit in there to watch the glow worms and meet my imaginary friend. I knew he was imaginary because my parents told me he was. I only saw him there, in that specific place. Thing was, he was probably unusual as little girls' imaginary friends go, as he was a teenage boy (I have no idea of the age just that he was older than my brother who was 5 years older than me). I'd guess I'd have stopped talking about him because I would have been laughed at (esp by bro).

Another weird thing was he was "foreign" and somehow different. Bear in mind this was 1960s' rural Yorkshire where the biggest "foreigner" usually was someone from 5 miles away. I doubt I'd even have had that word "foreign" or concept, if it hadn't been for the fact that for some time there was a little French kid in my class at school. He had one of those double barrelled names I forget but like Jean Paul, and I remember thinking my imaginary friend's name reminded me of his.

My only real vivid memory of imaginary friend is the last time I ever saw him. I'd be around 5. He said to me I'd never see him again. Not ever. I was really sad. (Not a lonely child - although I wanted to be. Probably undiagnosed autistic spectrum, but again in the 1960s we had no concept of that. So I was happiest alone, playing by myself).

I should add my "garden" was in fact an old orchard, an acre, with drystone walls round it - but no wall at the end where it just let into a field. So technically, anyone could just walk in there, if they wanted. And it could indeed have been an actual person. Only it wasn't or I didn't think he was "real". Scary thing is, a teenage boy could have just walked in there every night - it was out of sight of our house, down the bottom of a steep hill, behind a load of trees. Thing is, in a village everyone knew everyone and even as a 5 year old, you'd recognise all the teenagers in the village as being so and so's big brother, or someone or other's son. There was nobody we didn't know.

I only ever saw him in the hen hut. He wasn't scary. He was kind and my "friend" and I enjoyed our chats.

30 years later, land was sold and whilst digging foundations, the builders hit two Roman stone sarcophagi. Meters from this part of our garden. Neither were teenage boys - although one was a young girl of a similar age. Thing is, these graves will have gone in along the line of a lost road that will have crossed our orchard. So there were no doubt other burials that hadn't survived because they didn't have the fancy stone coffins... Other weird thing was, my grandad had knocked down an old farm building quite near that place where the burials were found and maybe 2m from the henhut. My whole childhood, my parents just left that pile of bricks and pantiles and rubble there. When I was about 10 or 11, my friend and I used some of it to build an ever increasing complex of buildings (just a couple of bricks high, and using pantiles as rooves) which we called our "Roman villa". (As a burial area there'd have been no villas there, of course, but it is thought that with high status coffins made from millstone grit there might have been mausoleums or at least, large gravestones).

For many years I thought they were military graves but someone here pointed me to the archaeological report, which we finally read for the first time last year. The male a bit older than my imaginary friend but had healed injuries on his skeleton not inconsistent with being military, possibly.

I told this story years ago when we still thought they were military graves, on a now gone, closed, forum. Another forum member was the sister of a well known TV sci fi series writer who may have used elements of this to tell a story (also may just be coincidence).

Still wonder why he felt the need to say goodbye and that I wouldn't ever see him again.

Tldr: my childhood garden was a Roman graveyard. I might have met a Roman (no Latin was spoken lol).

 

[MorningAngel]

I wonder what percentage of imaginary friends are ghosts. Children tend to be a lot more receptive to ghosts. So if you’re a ghost and most people can’t see you. Wouldn’t it be nice to have a kid to talk to? Unless you don’t like children of course.

 

[Grumpyoldwoman]

I remember having an imaginary friend called Helen,I always thought of her as a younger sister.
In the past 10 years,we found out that my youngest sister was one of a twin,but Mum lost her before she was born. Makes me wonder...

 

[PeteS]

I had an imaginary friend til I was about 5. I'd only see him in the henhouse. We'd go there at night to shut the hens in to keep them safe from foxes, and my dad and I used to sit in there sometimes as you could see what we called "glow worms" - not sure what they were but that's what my dad called them. Maybe the same thing as a firefly, I dunno. (Not seen them ever again in my life just in that wooden hen hut).

And then I'd often go on my own or stay after we'd herded in the chickens, and just sit in there to watch the glow worms and meet my imaginary friend. I knew he was imaginary because my parents told me he was. I only saw him there, in that specific place. Thing was, he was probably unusual as little girls' imaginary friends go, as he was a teenage boy (I have no idea of the age just that he was older than my brother who was 5 years older than me). I'd guess I'd have stopped talking about him because I would have been laughed at (esp by bro).

Another weird thing was he was "foreign" and somehow different. Bear in mind this was 1960s' rural Yorkshire where the biggest "foreigner" usually was someone from 5 miles away. I doubt I'd even have had that word "foreign" or concept, if it hadn't been for the fact that for some time there was a little French kid in my class at school. He had one of those double barrelled names I forget but like Jean Paul, and I remember thinking my imaginary friend's name reminded me of his.

My only real vivid memory of imaginary friend is the last time I ever saw him. I'd be around 5. He said to me I'd never see him again. Not ever. I was really sad. (Not a lonely child - although I wanted to be. Probably undiagnosed autistic spectrum, but again in the 1960s we had no concept of that. So I was happiest alone, playing by myself).

I should add my "garden" was in fact an old orchard, an acre, with drystone walls round it - but no wall at the end where it just let into a field. So technically, anyone could just walk in there, if they wanted. And it could indeed have been an actual person. Only it wasn't or I didn't think he was "real". Scary thing is, a teenage boy could have just walked in there every night - it was out of sight of our house, down the bottom of a steep hill, behind a load of trees. Thing is, in a village everyone knew everyone and even as a 5 year old, you'd recognise all the teenagers in the village as being so and so's big brother, or someone or other's son. There was nobody we didn't know.

I only ever saw him in the hen hut. He wasn't scary. He was kind and my "friend" and I enjoyed our chats.

30 years later, land was sold and whilst digging foundations, the builders hit two Roman stone sarcophagi. Meters from this part of our garden. Neither were teenage boys - although one was a young girl of a similar age. Thing is, these graves will have gone in along the line of a lost road that will have crossed our orchard. So there were no doubt other burials that hadn't survived because they didn't have the fancy stone coffins... Other weird thing was, my grandad had knocked down an old farm building quite near that place where the burials were found and maybe 2m from the henhut. My whole childhood, my parents just left that pile of bricks and pantiles and rubble there. When I was about 10 or 11, my friend and I used some of it to build an ever increasing complex of buildings (just a couple of bricks high, and using pantiles as rooves) which we called our "Roman villa". (As a burial area there'd have been no villas there, of course, but it is thought that with high status coffins made from millstone grit there might have been mausoleums or at least, large gravestones).

For many years I thought they were military graves but someone here pointed me to the archaeological report, which we finally read for the first time last year. The male a bit older than my imaginary friend but had healed injuries on his skeleton not inconsistent with being military, possibly.

I told this story years ago when we still thought they were military graves, on a now gone, closed, forum. Another forum member was the sister of a well known TV sci fi series writer who may have used elements of this to tell a story (also may just be coincidence).

Still wonder why he felt the need to say goodbye and that I wouldn't ever see him again.

Tldr: my childhood garden was a Roman graveyard. I might have met a Roman (no Latin was spoken lol).

Sounds like an idyllic place to have grown up in. I can easily visualise it from your description. a place I would love to spend old age in.

 

[Iris]

When my youngest was little she had an imaginary friend called Chennel the wasp queen who lived in the camellia bush.
She would try to show me but I could never see anyone.

 

[Dick Turpin]

I had an imaginary friend as a small boy. I must have been 3/ 4 years of age or maybe slightly younger, and I called him Jeffrey apparently, well according to my Mum as I don’t remember too much about it really..

She had to set an extra plate and knife and fork out on the dinner table for Jeffrey to eat, or I wouldn’t touch any of my food - which humoured her quite a lot I think, although she didn’t find the following very funny.

One night before going to bed (and this is my Mums story – not mine) she thought that she’d check on a sleeping me to make sure I was okay. On opening the bedroom door, she saw me laying under the covers but with my right arm out extending outwards away from the bed. She tried to tuck my arm back under the blankets but discovered that the arm was rigid, and my fist was clenched - which is a highly unnatural way for somebody to sleep. She tried again to tuck the arm in, but this time used a bit more force and I woke up. She asked me what my arm was doing outside of the bed, and I told her that I was holding Jeffrey’s hand and that she’d woken us both up. She immediately run out of the room and closed the door behind her.

Until I grew out of my imaginary friend at the age of 5, it was my Dad It who used to do the nightly visits after that. Even to this day she said that she was petrified of Jeffrey for a long time afterwards lol

 

[CharmerKamelion]

Speaking as someone who never had an imaginary friend, and who has never had chance to talk in depth to anyone who did have one, I am intrigued to know if anyone on here can clarify what happens with regard to how you think back to your imaginary friend once you are an adult.

I suppose what I mean is : do you think back with genuine puzzlement because the friend seemed very real to you? Or do you think back along the lines of "I was just making it up for a laugh" or "because I was a bit lonely" ?

It must feel quite creepy, I would imagine, if as an adult you can think back and recall genuinely thinking you were conversing and interacting with someone/something no-one else could see! And could you actually SEE it, or was it only in your mind's eye?

I know people have done studies on various cases, and the one posted above (at post #66) by Ghost In The Machine sounds really fascinating.

 

[CharmerKamelion]

When my youngest was little she had an imaginary friend called Chennel the wasp queen who lived in the camellia bush.
She would try to show me but I could never see anyone.

Chennel the wasp queen sounds really cool. Does your daughter remember her at all? Did she ever describe her to you, or draw pictures? Have you ever asked her what she can recall about her? Fascinated by this subject!

 

[Iris]

I'll ask her when she comes down to visit.
She's the one who used to translate what the cats were singing and woke me to tell about the little men in the flying hat.

 

[lordmongrove]

Peter Laws on Imaginary Friends.
https://www.itsfrightful.org/36-the-frightful-world-of-imaginary-friends-part-1/

 

[lordmongrove]

Peter Laws with more on Imaginary Friends.
https://www.itsfrightful.org/37-the-frightful-world-of-imaginary-friends-part-2/

 

[catseye]

Speaking as someone who never had an imaginary friend, and who has never had chance to talk in depth to anyone who did have one, I am intrigued to know if anyone on here can clarify what happens with regard to how you think back to your imaginary friend once you are an adult.

I suppose what I mean is : do you think back with genuine puzzlement because the friend seemed very real to you? Or do you think back along the lines of "I was just making it up for a laugh" or "because I was a bit lonely" ?

It must feel quite creepy, I would imagine, if as an adult you can think back and recall genuinely thinking you were conversing and interacting with someone/something no-one else could see! And could you actually SEE it, or was it only in your mind's eye?

I know people have done studies on various cases, and the one posted above (at post #66) by Ghost In The Machine sounds really fascinating.

I also didn't have an imaginary friend - but my brother did and I think his 'friend' may shine some light into a little of what happens in some cases.

My brother's imaginary friend was Ray Davies of 'The Kinks' - who were HUGE when my brother and I were small. He lived in our house, hated mashed potato and his opinion was sought by my brother over a lot of small issues over which he and I fell out.

Apparently he was totally real, in the way imaginary friends are. I don't remember how my brother reacted to seeing the ACTUAL Ray Davies on TV, but he was adamant that it was the same person, not someone else called Ray Davies. Which makes me wonder if children 'catch on' to a name or a word half misunderstood and create a complete personality from it.

Although I didn't have imaginary friends, I had a whole stable of hobby horses, having been given one by my parents for my fourth birthday, I got my dad to make me more. Every one of those horses had an individual personality and a 'life'. I was a little bit older by the time I started my obsession with these, so I wonder if this was simply the next 'stage' of imaginary friends - like children giving their dolls a name and a 'real life'?

 

[CharmerKamelion]

I also didn't have an imaginary friend - but my brother did and I think his 'friend' may shine some light into a little of what happens in some cases.

My brother's imaginary friend was Ray Davies of 'The Kinks' - who were HUGE when my brother and I were small. He lived in our house, hated mashed potato and his opinion was sought by my brother over a lot of small issues over which he and I fell out.

Apparently he was totally real, in the way imaginary friends are. I don't remember how my brother reacted to seeing the ACTUAL Ray Davies on TV, but he was adamant that it was the same person, not someone else called Ray Davies. Which makes me wonder if children 'catch on' to a name or a word half misunderstood and create a complete personality from it.

Although I didn't have imaginary friends, I had a whole stable of hobby horses, having been given one by my parents for my fourth birthday, I got my dad to make me more. Every one of those horses had an individual personality and a 'life'. I was a little bit older by the time I started my obsession with these, so I wonder if this was simply the next 'stage' of imaginary friends - like children giving their dolls a name and a 'real life'?

Thanks, catseye. Interesting. You don't say how old your brother was when he had Ray Davies as his imaginary friend. Did you ever discuss Mr Davies with your brother when you were adults? Did he recognise it as all being in his imagination? Or did he say "yeah, that was weird. He was so real. I wonder what happened to him?" or stuff like that. It fascinates me to wonder what do people remember about their imaginary friendships once they are grown up?

 

[Iris]

My grandson loves computer games.
At the moment he's warrior I think called Linc, it's in a game about Zelda, and he comes appropriately dressed and acts out the parts.
When his parents try to get him to sleep in his own bed he says that Zelda has taken over that room.
At school they do say he has a wonderful imagination.

 

[catseye]

Thanks, catseye. Interesting. You don't say how old your brother was when he had Ray Davies as his imaginary friend. Did you ever discuss Mr Davies with your brother when you were adults? Did he recognise it as all being in his imagination? Or did he say "yeah, that was weird. He was so real. I wonder what happened to him?" or stuff like that. It fascinates me to wonder what do people remember about their imaginary friendships once they are grown up?

He was pre-school age, maybe around three. I'm a couple of years older so I distinctly remember the entire 'Imaginary Kinks' period, but my brother (now 60) doesn't remember any of it!

 

[Ghost In The Machine]

Sounds like an idyllic place to have grown up in. I can easily visualise it from your description. a place I would love to spend old age in.

Thanks, Pete, it was. Sadly, it's now a housing estate. A small and totally unnecessary one. I'd be happy if it was social housing or something people need, but it's just another posh estate which the village could perfectly well have done without.

After the archaeology was done, the developer - who'd paid for it - went out of business, but the new hosues went ahead, with a different developer. The spot where both sarcophagi were happens to be on the new road, though, not under the houses or their gardens. So you can go and stand on the precise spots where both graves were found.

Several of the large trees were left in situ so although there's now a bijou estate of executive homes on my beloved orchard - you can stand where the burials were (archaeologists' drew maps of where they were in relative to the new buildings) becase. you can orient yourself by the remaining trees. I found one single photo of our family sat in the garden with these trees in the distance, so went with that, to also figure out precisely where the old drystone wall had been, in relation to the graves. But last time I went, (because I intend to write about this in the next year or so), a woman came out of one of the new houses and asked me what I was doing. Must have looked suspicious! Or like one of them rough types.

I told her my parents used to own the land her house now sits on and I was there reminiscing. She seemed a bit pissed off we commoners were stood there even though it's a public place to stand.

When my dad sold the land with planning permission to fund his old age, at one point the estate agents asked for my mum's death cert. I had it, as keeper of genealogy for the family, and reluctantly handed it over. I still wonder if it was even his to sell, tbh. Her intention had always been to leave the house to one of us and the land to the other. But she died intestate and he remarried, so wife 2 got everything. I suspect at one point, it had been in mum's name, though.

As you can tell, I may be bitter about it! It was one of the last remaining old orchards in the area though - I'd have kept it safe, if it had been mine. And now it only survives in a few people's heads.

Twisting this back to be on topic. Just remembered. A couple of day's ago, son's girlfriend told me her friend went on holiday, as a child, in Wales somewhere and just blurted out "This is where I used to live with my other mummy and daddy." Current mum asked him what his name had been - he answered, so out of curiosity she went to the village churchyard and did indeed find someone buried there with that name.

 

[Delightful]

I see tulpas and thoughtforms as basically imaginary friends.
I have two imaginary lovers (which I married).

 

[Ghost In The Machine]

Not on this thread but I think I've written about this elsewhere here. But just had a new development so thought I'd write it down here.

My henhut Roman friend wasn't the only person I saw as a child that (it turned out) nobody else saw, so I guess Uncle P sort of counts as an imaginary friend...

When I was a kid, we'd visit my great aunt most weeks. There was a quiet, bald, little man with glasses who was always there but never spoke. I didn't think it odd he never spoke as when we went to visit my great aunt, my dad didn't speak, either. He'd sit in a corner reading a paper and eating aunty's cakes til it was time to head home. My great aunt and mum were extroverts, talkative, my dad the opposite. He left them to it. So the fact there was another silent man in the room didn't strike me as odd.

My great aunt was one of those Northern old ladies people call "a force of nature" (or Norah Batty). I thought of her as my grandma as both my actual grandmas died before I was born and I saw her weekly. She lived in the next village so we couldn't just walk to her house. I also thought of her as a sort of maiden aunt. She had no photos of a husband, never mentioned a husband, and I'm not sure if aged about 4 or 5, I even thought of the silent man as "husband". I can't remember what I thought of him as. He was just there. Not odd, not creepy and solid as anyone else in the room. And one day, I dunno how old I'd have been, but maybe 6 or 7, I asked where the man had gone.

Everyone must have responded with "What man?" and I described the small, bald man with glasses who had always been in aunty's living room but now, apparently, wasn't. I never saw him again.

I described someone who sounded very much like Uncle P (according to my dad). Aunty had once had a husband and he'd died in the 1950s, before I was born. No photos of him. Nobody ever mentioned him. And years later, when my great aunt showed me her photo albums to show me pics of my mum, I remember noticing there weren't any pictures of him in there, either. So I never entirely knew whether he was as described but my dad - who had known him briefly - seemed to think he was.

Now, I've always wondered why Uncle P "appeared" to me. We were only related by marriage. He was childless so had no descendants. He seems to have been written out of the story when he died. Like my great aunt, he came from a local farming family - he'd been the most nondescript of people though and rather than farming, had been that most boring of things, an insurance clerk. He had a very unusual first name - literally the only person in the UK with this forename. So very easy to trace when a couple weeks back, bored one evening, I went to look for Uncle P just to check out who he'd actually been. As so many of mum's family, being farmers, intermarried with cousins or other local farmers whose names I recognise and I suddenly got to wondering what Uncle P's mum's maiden name was, even though I do genealogy I don't spend much - or any - time, usually, looking at in laws. Have enough in the direct line.

Turns out he's related to me by blood and several times over. Related not to my great aunt's dad, but to my grandmother's side - the super inter-related one where people continually married cousins for several generations. So I'm not just related to him once over but multiple times. I'd never known my great aunt's husband was also my close relative but on the other side of the family. Should have guessed.

But anyway. Now it makes more sense why I saw him (possibly) as a child. I'm the nearest thing he'll have had to a descendant. My mother may or may not have known this (that he was also her blood relative not just an in law) but certainly it was never mentioned. Uncle P was never mentioned. He has no gravestone but his dad does, and I suspect he's buried close by. So, anonymous in death as in life. Trust me to have an imaginary "friend" who was a middle aged insurance clerk.

 

[Steven]

In reference to Ghost's fascinating post above, I do wonder if children - whose lives aren't as yet constricted as adult mindsets are by our obsession with time - can easily view other timelines; the timelines in which 'dead' people carry on existing regardless, unaware that they are dead (but only dead, perhaps, to the rest of us).

 

[MorningAngel]

In reference to Ghost's fascinating post above, I do wonder if children - whose lives aren't as yet constricted as adult mindsets are by our obsession with time - can easily view other timelines; the timelines in which 'dead' people carry on existing regardless, unaware that they are dead (but only dead, perhaps, to the rest of us).

I saw this the other day.

 

[Steven]

In the book The Shining, the boy's "imaginary friend" was actually himself from the future. Interesting idea. The book Chocky, the IF was another intelligence (can't remember the details now, long time since I read that one).

Reminds me of an anecdote in one of Anthony Peake's books: someone was deeply hypnotised, and 'saw' himself approach a boy...who turned out to be himself when young. The boy remained unaware of the man. IIRC Peake used this incident to illustrate his daemon/guardian theory.

 

[Ghost In The Machine]

In reference to Ghost's fascinating post above, I do wonder if children - whose lives aren't as yet constricted as adult mindsets are by our obsession with time - can easily view other timelines; the timelines in which 'dead' people carry on existing regardless, unaware that they are dead (but only dead, perhaps, to the rest of us).

It only occurred to me as an adult that, the reason I didn't think anything of it at the time was, my dad would barely speak a word in that front room even if we were there a few hours. So maybe I thought that was what men did in "company"? I think he only went because my mum couldn't drive herself then he was sort of marooned there with my mum and her relatives. So he hid behind a newspaper or a book - I remember him doing the crossword, as well. I don't remember what the bald man with glasses did, or where he sat. But I do remember he was silent. And presumably never got cake, either, but I must not have noticed that. More cake for me.

And it must have not seemed weird that nobody spoke to or mentioned the man because I guess they barely spoke to my dad. Many years later, I discovered my great aunt had found her husband so uninteresting, she'd taken another family member along as well, on her honeymoon - presumably so she'd have someone to talk to. This was in the 1920s. My other great aunt - her sister - actually left her husband and lived alone which was a bit shocking in those days - they were really independent women, used to making their own money and doing what they liked, quite unusual for those days. And great aunt never mentioned her husband like other widows would. It was as if he'd never existed. I only realised recently that the house where this happened, I don't think she ever lived there with him. She moved there after he died... So it wasn't like he came with the house, kinda thing.

I do think you have a point. Noticed with my own kids they seemed open to seeing and experiencing things we couldn't and then as they got older, that seemed to stop and now they're psychic as housebricks. Should say, nobody thought I was "psychic" or anything - just that I had "a vivid imagination" which, to be fair, I did.

 

[Iris]

I may have mentioned that my grandson. loves dressing as an elf called Link who is in some game where Zelda is a character.
He refuses to sleep in his own bed as he says that Zelda sleeps there and he's going to marry her when he grows up.