My son was four when he said something I still think about.
We were sitting on the floor building with blocks when he suddenly looked at me and said, “I picked you because you were sad.”
I laughed because I thought it was just a child saying something sweet.
Then he said, “Before I came here, I saw you crying in the kitchen.”
My wife and I looked at each other.
A year before he was born, we had gone through a very difficult time. One night, after a doctor told us we might not be able to have children, I sat alone in the kitchen and cried.
Nobody knew about that except my wife.
I asked my son what he meant by “before I came here.”
He shrugged and said, “Before I was little.”
Then he went back to playing.
He never said anything like that again. But every time I look at him, I wonder if some souls know where they are going before we ever meet them.