• Thank you to Carol and Steve Bowman, the forum owners, for our new upgrade!

Remembering "Father"

ChrisR

Administrator
Staff member
Super Moderator
I thought i'd follow up to the popular Remembering "Mother" thread that was posted some time ago.

I have many memories of my father from my previous life as Lisbet. We had a very close relationship that had it's ups and downs. We lived in a very remote part of the world, so family and friends were very few and far between. My mother had died very early in my life, possibly when she was giving birth to me. So it was just me and my father to keep each other's company for most of the time.

I called him "Pappy", and he was very protective of me, but he also had a very cruel streak. He never really got over the loss of my mother, and, seeing so much of her in me, he'd often take out his frustrations on me. He also had a short temper, and i'd often be on the receiving end of a beating, for some minor offence. But he'd always be full of remorse afterwards, as he'd try desperately to make things up to me.

I can clearly remember one occasion when he entered my room during the night, he laid down next to me in my bed, then he went on to sexually abuse me while i laid there. I was growing into a young woman, and i guess the older i got, the more of my mother he could see in me. Although i was uncomfortable and confused by what he was doing, i wasn't scared, i didn't think he would ever harm me. And i wasn't sure if it was normal for father's to do this to their daughters, so i just laid there in silence and endured it. It seemed to be something that he did on the spur of the moment, and again, he was beside himself with remorse after, and i took pity on him. I think, as Lisbet, i could only ever see the good in him. (I still feel compelled to make excuses for him, even in this life)

Despite his cruelty, the majority of the time we spent together was happy, and i have many happy memories of the things we did together. One of my funniest moments with him, was when we were fishing in the river. He had a "home made" fishing rod, and he was trying to land a big fish. The rod snapped under the weight of the fish, sending my father falling backwards into the water. This memory made me laugh out loud, and i still have a giggle every time i think about it...:D

I was wondering if any of you have any memories of your father from a previous life?
 
Thank you for sharing that memory, Chris, it must have been a difficult situation for you when you were Lisbet. But at least you had some happy times as well!

I remember my father in two lives; in my Elizabethan life he was cold and distant and thought the world of my older half-brother Richard, but didn't care much for me. I did have a kind of "father figure", though, a man named Richard Tarleton whom I met when I was twenty, and who taught me to dance, act and fence He was an extremely talented fencer, despite being short and having a slightly crooked back, but I was never any good at it, no matter how often we practiced. I was very fond of him, and the day he died was a very sad one. It took me a long time to realise that he was really dead, even as I was sitting beside his corpse...

It sounds funny, but Tarleton may have been the other father I remember in a previous life, my Anabaptist one. It took me a long time to connect the dots, but there's a certain similarity between him and Dierick, my father in that life. He was from Antwerpen, a linnen weaver by trade, and had planned to move to Bremen, perhaps because he thought there was more work there, or maybe he was just getting bored in Antwerpen. On his journey he rested once in the little town of Schöppingen near Münster, where he met my mother - well, let's just say he never did go to Bremen :)
One special memory I have of Father is celebrating Epiphany with the family of his friend Heinrich Krechting. It was common in the Netherlands and the Münsterland to bake a cake with a bean inside, and whoever had the bean in their slice was called the "Bean King", a kind of Lord of Misrule. The Bean King was often given a paper crown, and he could nominate other guests as his Queen, Fool and so on, if he felt like it. The Epiphany celebrations I remember were all loud and rowdy, but a lot of fun ;)
One year, the year before my parents were executed for being Anabaptists, is the one I remember especially. Heinrich Krechting's brother Johann found the bean in his cake, so he was dutifully crowned as Bean King, and he nominated Father as his Fool. Heinrich put his black fur-lined clerk's gown round his brother's shoulders to "make him look like a king, farmer that he is" (Johann was a kind of "gentleman farmer" and bred horses), and toasts were brought out to the new "king" and his "fool". I think someone gave him a wooden spoon as a "sceptre" as well, and things got very silly...ironically, only a short time later we would all follow another fake king, the "tailor king" Jan van Leyden....
 
I have memories of fathers from several lives -- but the memories are never as vivid or as strong as the memories of my mothers.

However, in one of my more recent meditations I uncovered the life of a girl in Holland named Annika. She had been raised by her father. They were very close -- and despite the fact that she was a female in the 1400's -- he taught her to read and write, believing education to be important, regardless of gender.

He also -- did not arrange a marriage for her, allowing her to marry for love. He died shortly after Annika was married -- and had given birth to her first child. I believe he spent some happy times with the little family and enjoyed his granddaughter very much. I am unsure if he died before or after baby Elena died.

I also have wonderful memories of Papa from my life in Italy -- and of my father Marty in my Boston life as Jessica.

There are several other fathers that I remember from various lives...but they seem to play lesser roles in my lives.

Aili
 
Thanks, Chris, it's good to have a thread about fathers, too! :thumbsup:

I remember several PL fathers, but haven't got many detailed recollections of them. I remember a couple of not-so-nice dads, and few dads that were "ok". I know I've also had a couple of great, warm-hearted fathers, but unfortunately I don't have anything specific to share about them.

For some reason, like for Aili, they seem to have played a lesser role through many my incarnations. I also think men weren't usually as close as women with their children in the past.

Karoliina
 
Often, in my past-life memories, one person stands out clearly while others are indistinct. I remember my father from my Sephardi life (but still can't remember my own name.:confused: ) He was stocky, dark, and had black hair and a beard--not unusual in that time and place.

Once, when I was probably in early adolescence, I was walking past the house of people we knew slightly. I could hear from inside the house, the sound of the man beating his wife. At some point, I told my father. He said something like, "They aren't our concern. They aren't our kind." I took that to mean that because they were Gentiles, we had no responsibility to intervene in what they did. Had they been a Jewish family, it would have been a different matter; the community would have felt obligated to get involved and protect one of their own.

I also remember "Agka," my uncle and father-figure from a Mongol life. He spent a lot of time horseback riding, and I loved to go with him.
 
My only super clear flash of a past life I had in a dream involved my father. I was sitting in a sun(ny) room, I was about 12 years old, and I looked up through some french doors and saw a black man with wavy black hair smiling in at me. I remember a jolt of joy I felt in my heart and said "Dad!" and he smiled at me and lifted his hand to wave at me. He was wearing white 1920's style clothing and had (I think) the small moustache that was in fashion then. I did not see myself, but I know I was black (I'm now white) and was wearing a white dress. An extremely good memory. I smiled for days. :D
 
Hi JOLIFFE,

Welcome to the forum, it's nice to have you here, and i hope you're enjoying the threads.

That's a nice memory you have of your father, have you tried any of the different methods of finding out more about this particular life?

You may find this thread useful: How can I learn about my past lives?

Chris...;)
 
Hi, Chris. No I haven't. I would love to find out more, but am kind of at a loss. I'll check out that link. Thanks!
 
I remember my father clearly from my Swedish pl. I'm not sure about his name, but I have a strong vision of him. He was a very charismatic man, very kind and gentle, very intelligent and patient. My mama was somewhat more unstable and I had a problematic relationship with her, we didn't get along well, so that probably explains why I remember papa much better.


One specific memory is from our villa in the countryside on a sunny afternoon. I think I'm playing on the floor with a doll and he's looking at me, smiling gently. He had put down the newspaper for a moment to look at me. He smiled a lot with his eyes and was one of those people that seemed to smile constantly (I know it's silly, but Timbaland looks like that too:rolleyes::tongue:).


I only have very fond memories of him. I was a real daddy's girl.
 
Sunniva, thank you for sharing your memories of your past-life father; he must have been a wonderful person! It's a pity you can't remember his name, but do you have any more memories of him?
 
This in an interesting thread. I will explain my relationship with my fathers from my 2 past lives and my current, i feel they are connected.


My 1909-1946 life: I actually have no real memory of my father, i feel he died before or just after i was born. or left us, either way he was not in the picture. I feel i took the "search" for a father into my adulthood by always needing to have a man my life, marrying the first man who asked me. (today girls like that irritate me, for really no apparent reason, and oddly enough almost all my freinds who are girls are like that, specifically my best freind)


My next life 1947-1986, I did have a father. We had an extremly good relationship, and were very close. He died in 1964 when i was a teenager leaving me with an abusive mother. His death severely devastated me, and i feel i greived for him for the rest of my life.


My current life 1987-present, I dont have a very good relationship with my father at all. I am very close to my mother this time around. My father and i just dont really get along, we have nothing in common, and if he were not my father i would not be freinds with him. however our relationship is decent, and he has always been an amazing father by providing for myself and my brothers, but i feel the father son relationship part never developed. I think i go way back with both of my parents, i am just not sure as to who they were. ihave ideas, but nothing for sure yet.
 
That's very fascinating, Hippy. For me, I don't think I go back with my parents, but I definitely have parental 'issues' that are shining through the pastlives. Especially a mother-issue, but this is a father's thread :)


Reynardine, thank you! :) He was a wonderful person. Especially in contrast to my mother in that life, who was distressed in many ways, he seemed like a rock. But he was also a busy man - he may have been a Swedish politician, but we're (Karoliina and I) are not sure, and he spend a lot of time away from us. I believe he played the violin (which explains my love for that instrument in this life). It is a shame about the name indeed. I hope I'll remember it soon :)


Karoliina, do you have more memories of papa? :)
 
Hello Sunniva. :)


Unfortunately I don't have many detailed memories of papa - for some reason - but I have a very good overall image of him. A wonderful man in many ways - I wonder where he is now. I'll attach something I wrote about him earlier:

Julia looks the same as in my earlier meditation, but then I thought she had blue eyes - now I think they're brown. And I think "just like both parents, although Mama was a blonde whereas Julia has light brown hair". Julia is a bit pale and has a pointy nose. I think both our parents have Russian heritage, but at least Papa has lived in Sweden all his life and our life is very much a mixture of both Russian and Swedish traditions and habits. I think Julia is a bit of a tomboy, whereas I'm more interested in Mama's painting and other things she likes. She paints often in the garden of our villa. Our family plays a lot of music, I think Mama plays both the piano and the guitar, and Papa perhaps the violin. Julia has a good voice and she can sing several old Russian songs. In the garden there are a couple of "stairs" leading from the front yard to the back yard so that the front yard is a bit higher up. I think the villa is by a lake that you can see from the back yard. I see myself and Julia as children, maybe 12 years old, sitting on the stairs between the yards. We have straw hats on and we play some game with coins we put in the sand on the stairs. Mama is somehow fragile, but at the same time dramatic. She gets bad head aches, especially when we are in town. She says in a dramatic way that in the country side she can BREATHE. Papa is smiling gently but amused. He is so much more stable than Mama - the artist and drama queen. He loves her very much, but finds her amusing at times. :)
Karoliina
 
I love that memory, Karoliina. It feels so familiar and it amuses me to think about how he handled mama and would smile to us children behind her back when she went over the top to assure us that we shouldn't mind it :)


As you said Karoliina, I wonder where he is now.
 
This a good thread ;)


Does any new or newer members have memories of their past life father?
 
ChrisR


I find Lisbet's life and story very fascinating. Especially, her complex relationship with her father. Im curious..did you meet your (Lisbet's) father in your current lifetime? If yes, do you have a good relationship with him?
 
Hi Believe2007,


Thanks for your interest in Lisbet and her life - :)


Unfortunately I've never met my father from that life in this life, but something tells me that he is out there somewhere, "whoever" he or she is today, and that maybe we will meet again in this life, I have a feeling that is going to happen, and when/if it does, I think we would have a good connection.


Even though he made a few bad mistakes, on the whole, we had a very loving relationship, we spent 90% of our time.... in just each other's company, so it was bound to be an intense affair, not that I would condone some of the things he did, but I think the good times far outweighed the bad.


Thanks for asking - :)
 
I believe I died at the age of 35 in my last life which must have ended sometime just before this one. I was born in 63 in this life.


While I have no memories of my past life father, I feel that he is still alive but very old. I feel that he has missed me since I died. I think my mother from my last life died when she was 63 years old and my father has been alone since.


I have no idea how I know this or why I feel these things but I think I astral travel at night and have learned a lot that way. Sometimes I can remember it. I know it sounds a little weird but its what happens.
 
The other night I was watching the HBO John Adams film where they were reading out the Declaration of Independence to the public for the first time. I had a flash of my French life, of being a small child with my PL father reading it out to me. It was night, in the soft glow of the fire, and I was captivated by how excited he was by these words (that I was too little to really understand). He was a short, burly man with wavy dark hair, several days' beard and very dark, liquid brown eyes bright with kindness and love.


Then I felt this crushing sense of missing him--he'd died fairly young and I think suddenly (maybe a heart attack), everything was just cut adrift at that point. I feel like it was that pain that underlay a lot of the wrong I did in that life.


~wyld
 
I’ll share a few memories of my father during my life on the American Frontier - my name was Hope.


My father was very peaceable man - he and my mother had come from England to settle some land. I was born after they had been in America a few years and had built a small cabin and established themselves; becoming close friends with the Indians. The white men who said they were his friends were trying to get him to run the Indians from their land – but he wouldn’t. He was my hero – and even though he was gruff at times, he was very gentle with me.


Here are a couple of snippets from my journal:

I am older - about 7. I am working with the Indian woman stringing beads on garments. She is humming a song as she works - and I feel very content. I am humming along with her as I work. I hear someone approaching and a man’s voice say, “Hope Isabelle!” – and I look up and see a man with a beard and long, scruffy dirty blonde hair, whom I know is my father. I drop the beads and run to him. He lifts me up and tells me to stop wandering away from the house or he is going to tie me up. He is laughing and I know he’s joking. I put one hand on either side of his face, rubbing my hands back and forth along his bristly hairs. He tells me I have worried my new mother. I make a face at him. I don’t like his wife.
I am about 5. My father and I are in the cabin having our dinner. We are seated at the table and I am chattering away to him. He is responding occasionally with a nod or a smile. I ask him why he named me ‘Hope.’ He says he called me Hope because when Momma died – he felt none. He says Momma died when I was born and he thought I was dead, too. But then I cried and he had hope. I tell him I wish I knew my Momma. Papa looks sad. I ask him what she looked like and he takes me to the window. I see my reflection - the white blonde hair in messy braids - the slightly sunburned skin - freckles on my nose and bright green eyes. He says, “See that girl? That’s your Momma. You look just like her.” Then he goes to a wooden chest. He pulls out something -a necklace. It’s a cross. He says, “It was your Momma’s, Hope. Now it’s yours.”


I am sitting on the floor playing with a doll – it is made from needles from a tree all bundled together. The doll is dressed in Indian clothing and has beads on it. It even has hair – which looks like real hair braided on top of its head. The priest from the township is here, talking to my father. There are other men with him. They are telling him we are in danger from the Indians. My Papa says we are not. They are our friends. One of the men grabs my doll and asks my Papa, “You let your daughter play with this?” I am crying for my doll. My father tells the man to give it back to me. The men are calling my father names. Telling him he is against his own people. My father tells the preacher we are all God’s people. He takes my doll from the man and hands it to me, picking me up. He tells them it’s time for them to go.
Does anyone else have memories of a past life father to share?
 
Thanks for sharing, Aili - fascinating! :thumbsup:


My memories and feelings of my PL fathers are still very fleeting, but I thought I'd share this tiny journal note from January, 2006, when I was remembering a PL in Ireland in the 1600's:

I think as a child/young girl I lived with my father, who was quite old, blind and thus useless if we're talking about bringing bread on the table. He wasn't a kind man and drank a lot. My mother was dead. I don't know when it had happened, but by this flashback I was maybe about 14 or so. We lived in a town, but to get some money I went often to the forest to pick berries or something I then was selling on the streets/marketplace.
I think my father was still alive when I got married. I think he was paid to let me go - for him to survive those last years of his life.
Also, one of my earliest PL memories is of being a little girl, living on the Orkneys (Scotland). In the memory I'm standing at the sea shore, on some big rocks, waiting for my father to sail home. Suddenly a big wave comes and I fall down, drowning in the end. :(


Karoliina
 
Believe2007 said:
ChrisR
I find Lisbet's life and story very fascinating. Especially, her complex relationship with her father. Im curious..did you meet your (Lisbet's) father in your current lifetime? If yes, do you have a good relationship with him?
I was asked this question a few years ago by a member, and at the time I answered 'no', I was unaware of my father from that past life in his current life. But now I believe we have been reunited. I believe my father from that past life now lives today in the form of a close friends' daughter. I've never met my friend, or her family, as she lives overseas, but as well as communicating with my friend almost on a daily basis, I have also exchanged a few emails with her daughter, and she has given a few vague hints to her mother that she may subconsciously remember her past life as my father. She's only 14 now, so her mother and I have agreed not to say anything about her past life to her, even though she does remember other past lives, we want her to remember this one also by herself, and if she doesn't .... well, that's ok, she was obviously not meant to remember.


One day I'm hoping that we will all meet, we have discussed it, but flights are expensive :rolleyes: :(


Does anybody else have any special memories of a past life father to share?
 
My only Memories of my Father


So I saw this post and it made me register. I had been reading through the other posts and enjoying reading about others experiences; but this post I can relate to.


I have very vivid dreams. I have many lucid and just detailed dreams in general. There is one dream that I have had that has stood out.


I was a little girl. About 3 or 4. I had blonde curly hair (I now have brown skin, brown hair etc) and I was wearing a little dress and button up boots. The kind you need a hook to button. The clothes were not fancy though.


I was standing on a farm next to my sister. She was older than me. I remember feeling like she was considered more plain than I was. She had long brown braids and freckled skin.


We were looking at our father who was talking to some of the men that worked on the farm. We waved to him and ran off to play. I remember an intense feeling of love for him. I also had an understanding that I was his favorite and very precious to him. I don't remember a mother in this dream. She may have been dead.


The next thing I remember my sister and I are running and we are scared. There is a man chasing us. We run toward a huge field (looked like a pasture) and there is a barbed fence. I think it is barbed because my sister squeezes under it and I get stuck. I can feel the back of my dress catch on something and then I feel a firm "smack" on my boot. It is the hand of a very strong grown man. I feel myself yanked back and then I am above the ground.


I now have what I assume is 360 vision. I have no body and am pretty far above the ground. I see my father looking for me and I still cry when I think of this. He knows. He runs down the ravine and finds my body behind a bush. I am naked and so small. I am crying now in my sleep (and as I write this). Not for myself but because I know how sad my daddy is. I see him run over to me kneel down and scoop me up in his arms squeezing me tight. Then I float away.


I woke up crying. So hard. I can still remember how sad I was for him. How much I loved him. I wish I knew where he was now. Who he was, so that I could tell him that I am okay and that I was more concerned for him than what happened to me. I know it was a dream. But it was too too real. I have never had a dream where I woke up and had been actually crying in my sleep. When I woke up I just sobbed.


I feel like my sister was my mom in this life. In the dream I felt like even though she was only about 7 that she looked after me.
 
Hi StellarStarship, welcome to the forum :)


That's a very sad story, and one which I can kind of relate to, thanks for sharing it.


Do you have any ideas as to when this past life took place? Could it have been recent enough that your father from that life could still be alive today? Do you feel any guilt that you left him to carry on without you? I can understand your longing to see him again, and to tell him how much you loved him, but he clearly knows that already, and if your souls have unfinished business together, and are meant to meet again, then you will meet again when the time is right.


In the meantime, try to understand that these things happen for a reason. Sometimes life can appear to be very cruel when you look at it from the perspective that we only get one shot at life, but when you consider that we come back again and again, often with the souls that we have a timeless connection with, then each role that we play together has something beneficial to teach each one of us.


Have you ever tried meditation or regression? Maybe you can take yourself back to that past life and say the things that you wanted to say to your daddy, he'll hear you, you don't have to physically meet him again in order to let go of the sadness you feel, because you are still connected at the soul level :)
 
StellarStarship said:
So I saw this post and it made me register. I had been reading through the other posts and enjoying reading about others experiences; but this post I can relate to.
Hi StellarStarship, and a warm welcome!


What Chris said is so important that it bears reading again. However painful a memory is, there is a healing quality to having that dream, and accepting that it may actually have happened. Realizing it by oneself is difficult and extremely stressful. But, discovering this Forum and sharing your experience with us will be deeply healing for you.
 
What Kind Words


ChrisR and NightTrain thank you so much for your kind words and warm welcome. What a friendly place!


As for meditation, I have listened to a regression cd. While it relaxed me I didn't go deep enough to remember anything. I did however buy a regression book and regressed my husband! (which I am sure is not normally a good idea unless you are a trained professional, but I would like to be a regression therapist! And it worked!)


As for the time period. I don't know. Probably because I was only about 3 or 4 and you don't really have a great concept of time. I do know however that it was a long time ago. Everything was very old fashioned. It reminded me of Holly Hobby. When I had it, I thought it was the late 1800's. So no my father wouldn't still be alive.


But I will keep looking into getting myself regressed!
 
StellarStarship said:
As for meditation, I have listened to a regression cd. While it relaxed me I didn't go deep enough to remember anything.
The key is to keep practicing. Maybe your mind was too 'busy', this is perfectly normal when you're just starting out. It's a good idea to prepare yourself by spending a few weeks on simple relaxation exercises. Just concentrate on relaxing and emptying your mind, leave the remembering for later on, or maybe if you're lucky, some memories may surface naturally. It may take several attempts, but keep trying, and even if nothing happens, then at least the exercise has been good for your mental health :)
 
My "papa" has been my mother and my lover, I found that disgusting the first time, but, now, I think It's just that we are souls who have a strong bond.


I have loved him so much, yesterday I saw my father in a PL (I'm happy because I did it!), at first I resisted to believe, I mean, I knew he was my dad but he was blond, and so beautiful, I know we were in england, I'm not sure about the time, I used to see him, but I was so shy, talk to him was so hard, one day he said to me "Hey, I think you are beautiful" I was really happy.


Other thing I remembered, was a father, in a life I had in Mexico, he was my younger nephew, he's 3 years old(he told me one day, "I'm your father" I took it as a joke, now I'm thinking that he was serious, I will talk about it later in the correct forum), my father in that life was so nice to me, I loved him a lot, now, I love my nephew and we have a really close relationship.


My actual dad, is the best, I love him too much, and he loves me too.


I'm his little child, he loves my sisters too, but we are more close.
 
Back
Top