Your own body reminding you of lost loved ones

Just as many have said, we are genetically connected. This is why there is so much more in the universe and life we do not understand. It is truly intriguing but I think perhaps we shouldn’t understand therefore life after death remains a wonderful adventure when the time comes.
I always remember my DD 7yrs old playing upstairs in her bedroom and I could hear her talking to someone (thought it was her dolls) at lunchtime I said you were having a good chat with your dolls this morning. She looked at me as if I was daft, no Mum that was the old lady who talks to me. Oh I said thinking imaginary friend and it was never discussed again. When we were emptying my parents house we came across a large box of photos which I put away for later. It wasn’t until we had moved from Scotland to England and my DD was 31 we decided to go through the photos. My DD said oh that’s the old lady that used to talk to me when I was little. When we looked on the back of the photo it turned out to be my paternal grandmother who died before I was born. It was only then we both become quite emotional and unable to honestly make sense of it. Now we both just think it was a wonderful event, as too much speculation would diminish the wonder.
Anyone else experienced something similar, just wondering

Every time the hair dresser lifts the mirror to show the back of my head, “Hello mum!”

My parents died when I was 30 and 32. I can recall their faces but hands, no. My DM had lovely brown eyes and two older siblings inherited those. Father had blue eyes and my older sibling and I inherited them. I can just about recall their stature as DM was short 5' and DF 5'10". Photos are difficult as I'd say I see myself in both of them. As I left home at 19 I didn't really acquire their adult habits, lifestyle. Hard to think that they died well over 40 years ago.

My youngest nephew moves his hands when speaking just exactly the way my late brother did.

Sometimes when I wake up in the morning and look in the mirror with my hair standing on end, there is my late sister looking right back at me.

My daughter questioned where her son (when he was a few months old) had got grey eyes?No one else has them. I knew straightaway it was from my own father!

I never think i looked like my mum, but about 20 years ago i was on a bus, and one of my mums oldest friends got on,(who she had known since they were teens) and she called my mums name out to me,but questioningly? It was not very long after my mum had died,so maybe she was a bit confused, (she was early 70s i think this lady) so i did tell her i was my mums daughter,but maybe i did look like her younger self? and it made me wonder,as id never seen that i was.I was about 41 then.I do think one of my granddaughters looks like me at same age a bit.(shes 16)

BTW. Pleasebenice. Nice Post. X

Ditto to all the comments. We do carry the genes of ancestors with us physically. I believe our loved ones still walk alongside us to support or comfort us, and make us laugh. I took my deceased father with me to my driving test some 50 years ago. As a mechanical engineer, he was always tinkering with cars of friends and neighbours. And, yes, I passed first time.

Someone commented about my eldest son looking the double if me and I saw this the other day in his mannerisms it was odd. But strangely comforting.

My oldest grandson who wears glasses,now looks just like my uncle on my mums side.

I too see my mother's face when I look in the mirror sometimes. Not the beautiful face she had when she was younger but how she looked at a hundred!

I sent a pic of my older sister, taken when she was about 18months,to show my daughter,that shes got same facial expressions as my granddaughter, and she noticed her hands/& long fingers are same too,and hows she was twiddling her fingers.We lost my sister last year.

I quite agree yes, find the next generation reminding me of my relatives. My grand daughter walks just like my son who walks like is father. They often make a fist when they walk in a hurry. 🌹

I was on holiday last week and it was very hot and in addition going in the pool every day meant that I couldn't keep up with hair styling so rinsed my hair and left it to dry. My granny was looking at me from the mirror with wavy hair which I usually try to straighten out!

My brother came to stay and I noticed his feet were exactly like my late dads.

yes, my hands are now same as my mothers,so are my knees...stiff and sore, and when I look in the mirror, my mother looks back at me..

I see some of my mother in my own face.

When I look at my husband's driving licence I see his father in the photo

My sister died 35 years ago, but I think of her almost daily.

My surviving sister and I went away for a couple of days together. we reminisced much of the time about parents, my deceased sisters and others we have loved and who have died.

My hands look lije my mum's hands. My grandaughter has my mum's "amused" blue eyes. My son looks more and nore like my dad as he ages

I read a lovely article recently saying that when a loved one dies we don't stop having a relationship with them. I liked that as that's what I do with my late brother and sister. I still chat to them or they just pop into my head at times. It's comforting to me.

It’s just genetics isn’t it? When younger I looked more like my Dad’s side of the family but now older look more like Mum.
My twin DD’s both have the green eyes of Grandmother.

I see the likenesses in other family members rather than in my self. I will say that I inherited this or that from my father or mother, but I am looking at it neutrally as a fact. My mother and I, for example, both have double crowns, which makes some hairstyles difficult to achieve, but I see that mainly as a genetic matter

But my sister had tiny exquisite hands with beautifully shaped fingers. I always use to envy her because I have big square workmen's hands. DD has the same shape hand but in a larger size and they are a constant reminder of my dear sister.

I have a framed photo of my great grandmother. My nephew is the spit of her. I wouldn’t say she was manly, he’s certainly isn’t feminine. I think it’s the eyes & nose.

I quite frequently get a glimpse of my birth mother's face as I look in a mirror. It's quite uncanny as I didn't think I resembled her at all while she was still alive. And I still think I see her walking down a road sometimes. She sort of haunts me.