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Remembering "Mother"

Reading your posts, my first reaction was to think that I have no memories of past life mothers... but that's not exactly true.

I met a woman in this life that my soon-to-be husband (and soulmate) identified as my mother in our Native indian life (in which he already was my husband). I, for one, didn't feel any special connection to her, and he pointed out that, although she was the shamaness, she was more or less considered weird by our people.

The strange thing I wanted to talk about was that a few years ago I was really close to someone I considered like a second mother to me, because she taught me about femininity, sensitiveness and many typically "feminine" things that I never had from my actual mother. She gave me a sense of warmth, trust and confidence that I hadn't found in others.

It struck me only later, after I met my Love and we started investigating past lives together, that this friend had been my mother in a past life... I have no recollection of her as such, but I know for sure that she had been there in that life.

When our relationship ended in this life, I felt really sad, as if I was losing a mother. But now I feel really grateful because the little time we spent together has been of a tremendous help for me... Thanks to her I found the strength to "meet my destiny" and accept a happiness I would never have dared believe otherwise.

Isuyama
 
For Angella Ashton....

I thought you might find this thread interesting considering your last question about "Mother" in the Spirit Community section.
 
Re: Past life mothers...

I was reading through the replies here and didn't realise that this post had actually started in 2001.

Anyway, I do remember my "mothers" from prior lives, a lot more than my fathers.

I remember I was always loved as a child and in many lives I had a very happy childhood, despite what was happening in the world around me. I feel I may have been sheltered from the "bad" things...that my mother and family always tried to make sure that I was secure and happy despite circumstances.

I had a gypsy life in Italy and my mother and grandmother were the biggest influence on my life. I believe I lost my mother when I was a young girl and my grandmother had taken me into the mountains to protect me, and thus brought me up there.

I remember a Native American life in which I belonged to a Northern tribe (my tribe was split into north and south and would meet during the summer months for a reunion) which had been massacred. I was found by the Southern tribe, orphaned and sitting next to my dead mother amongst trees. I believe my mother had tried to run into the woods but was killed before she could run further in to hide. She had tried to protect me by using her body as a shield.

I had another Native American life where I had wandered away from my tribe, and while I was away, the tribe had been attacked. I was about 2 or 3 years old and the last memory I have was of my mother frantically running toward me. We locked eyes just for a brief moment before someone (I am now assuming it may have been my father) ran from behind me, grabbed me under the armpits and threw me into a brush...in an attempt to hide me and thus save my life.

More recently, I have very loving memories of a black grandmother (I was what was referred to as a quadroon) who loved to sing old slave hymns and in the very last life before my current life, of a mother who was completely devasted when she lost me in the 1960's to what I believe may have been TB, but I'm not sure.
 
With a lot of my Japanese past lives it almost feels like "Mother" is non-existent. This probably has a lot to do with the fact that it was such a male-centered society in a lot of ways (but not all). With my Armenian past lives I feel a sense of gratitude and peace. But with any of them I generally have a sense of peace and compassion, and with some, a desire that my bond with them could have lasted longer.

As far as the one that I feel the strongest to, it would probably be my mother sometime in the 16th century in Japan (not sure which life, since I was there several times that century). The portrayal of Maeda Tatsu in the Japanese TV series "Toshiie and Matsu" is close to that and felt very familiar-- a samurai's wife, mother of something like six kids, very strong and firm in spirit but with a very gentle demeanor, and pretty much always smiling, at least a little. I can't find a picture of the actress in that role, but this is her, at any rate: http://www.siminplaza.co.jp/topics/actress/img/actress_k.jpg

-N.
 
remembering Mother

I have a very strong memory image of my mother. She died when I was 4 in my PL and have never seen a photograph but I saw her so vividly that I have drawn a picture of her and I keep it with me. During my regression I saw her in the spirit world after my death and she was very comforting.

Nomad.
 
I definitely remember many of my "mothers." I have met a couple of pl mums in this life -- one not too long ago. We both recognized each other and it seems that we have just picked up where we left off the last time we were together. She has been a beautiful gift to me in this life and I treasure her perhaps more than in previous lives because of it.

The odd thing is I rarely remember a father figure in any of my lives. Just fleeting glimpses in the occasional life of a hard and difficult man. I know for sure that twice she (my mother) was a single parent, but the fathers still elude me. Perhaps because fathers didn't have a major influence in raising children (especially daughters) in the olden days, I didn't have the strong bond that I did with my mum. I died quite young in my previous lives, so maybe the opportunity to bond with my father just didn't happen because I was too little when I died. The really odd thing is that it doesn't bother me that much. I don't miss any past "father" of mine. I did, however, always yearn for different mums.

*big hugs to all who miss their mums*
Ailish
 
Ailish, I read your story of discovery of your mom...I love reunions like that...they transcend time! You are blest. Tman
 
Thank you Tman!

I do feel extremely lucky to have found her and to have her in my life again. She is truly an exceptional woman and finding her again has changed my life for the better in so many ways. Her presence in my life is definitely a gift! :D

Ailish
 
I remember one pl mother. She was holding my hand when I died in childbirth. I think that was symbolic of that relationship in that life. :)

In another pl I remember my mother sitting at a writing desk when I was maybe 4 and I remember my stepmother (my mother died when I was about 4 or 5 in that life), who was like a mother to me in many ways. They were very different women, but I loved them both. :) I remember my father from that life too.

Those are the ones that I remember to such a degree as to be able to say I remember. :)
 
I only have one clear memory of a mother, as a child in my last incarnation.
I'm curious--does anybody remember other adult relatives?
I remember an uncle or somebody who was like an uncle to me. I've been trying to place him in a culture or part of the world. He was short and stocky, with black hair and a beard, rode a horse that looked more like a shaggy pony, and had tattooed or scarified cheeks and arms. Anybody know where or when this might have been? (I'd look in the family albums from this time around, but I have a feeling he ain't in 'em. :D )
 
I am curious if new members have experience to share or thoughts regarding this post. ;)
 
Oddly I never seem to remember

Either parents, Unless of course it lead to trauma also, like the one life I had in the sixties where I beleive my mother at the time killed me and buried me in the back yard.(I think I was about 6) I wasn't an only child but I was kept away from the others locked in a room and eventually killed, and I have total recollection of both parental figures. My father was in essence, just a bystander.He worked and paid bills but really had no say in how we were raised or treated. And it didn't seem like he really cared or had any interest in how we were raised. I think he did love us, but he just didn't have a backbone. When I turned six in this lifetime I developed a real fear of death and thought for sure I was not going to live to see 7. Why she did this to me, I have no clue. I just remember her feeling cold towards me. Like I was not even one of hers. But I know that biologically I was her child. It makes no sense to me.
 
I have had some wonderful memories of my past-life mothers since this question was originally asked.

When I was exploring Jessica's life in the 1950's, I had some beautiful memories of my mother, Corinne. She was a fun-loving woman who liked to dance in the kitchen, made hanging the laundry outdoors an adventure, and loved to go to the beach. She liked to paint and play the piano, and she would often bring "goodies" into my playhouse and have tea parties with me. She very much inspired me to "seize the moment". I do remember my father in that life -- but I have clearer, more vibrant memories of my mother.

As Sarah in the 1600's, I have mainly memories of my 'mam', brother and uncle. My father worked away from home, so memories of him are limited and usually revolve around mealtimes. Mam was a very "outdoorsy' woman, who wasn't as conservative as everyone else in those times. She often let me get away with running bare-headed in the sunshine (I hated my hat). We often made chains of flowers and took long walks through the woods. We visited neighbours, taking food to those who needed help. We had a great relationship until her death.

As Anyana, I was raised by my Aunt Saya. She was soft-spoken, kind and oh-so-gentle. She taught me the things I needed to know about everyday living -- cooking, spinning, harvesting. I considered her to be a mother. My real mother lived there as well, but I was not raised by her. She was an important and knowledgeable woman -- I learned from her as well, but she taught me the things that no one else could. I loved Saya and looked up to her -- but sadly, she could not compare to my real mother in my eyes...and she knew that. I could see it in her eyes every time I looked at her. When our settlement was destroyed, Saya was killed. My mother rescued me and we escaped with some others, but I acted out with her for not saving Saya. I think I had much guilt over these two mothers -- I loved them both, but I did not want to choose between them.

I have many more memories of mothers, but there are too many to share here, so I picked the ones that mean the most to me personally at this point.
 
(((((((Aili))))))))

I don't have too many memories of my PL parents. Most PL memories I have are from adult lives and parents weren't playing that big a part then. But here's what I remember:

In my most recent PL in the U.S. I didn't have a good life, but I did have a wonderful momma. She made mistakes, but she was always there for me. My dad was a violent and abusive man but we left him when I was a child and after that I lived alone with momma. I don't have many clear memories of her, mostly warm feelings.

In a PL before that I spent my childhood in Europe (France perhaps) and my mama was very chic and active on the social scene. She wasn't very much there to play with me or anything, but I admired her and thought she was the most beautiful woman in the world. Both she and my more serious papa loved us children, but they were somewhat distant. We got to know each other better when I was a teenager/young woman and we travelled by boat to the U.S. moved there to live in a smaller flat. In Europe we had this huge house and my only clear memory from there is when my parents are once again off to a party or something and they are kissing me goodbye and leaving me with a nanny.

In a PL before that I have just one memory of my mother. I was already an adult man (in England). I was visiting my parents and I was in their living room with my mother and daughter. I just remember my mother sitting there looking very strict - and I felt she wasn't the most light-hearted woman, lol! More like a typical, Victorian prude. :D

I think my mama was very important to me in a PL before that in the Southern part of the U.S. but I don't have any clear and certain memories of her. I think I was a spoiled girl/young woman.

I remember a life before that as an orphan girl in Sweden. I'm not sure if I ever got to know my mamma, but I know she wasn't there at the time of my sad memories. :(

Then there are glimpses of some mothers in past lives I'm not certain where and when they took place. But I certainly have more memories of being a mum at this point. I can't wait to be a mum in this life! :)

Karoliina
 
I don't yet have any specific visual memories of my PL mother, but I still feel that she is my mother; I feel for her, I think, the same as I always have, a mixture of awe, admiration, love, fear, and a desperate need to please her.

I remember Maman as someone I loved from a distance, tried very hard to please, and she loved me, I know that...but she was Empress first, Mother second, and she took her responsibilities to her realm and her people very seriously. We didn't become close until just before I left for France, and we exchanged frequent letters for the rest of her life.

It's funny...she caused me so much guilt, pain and confusion, but I wished I could be like her. All my life, she was the Goddess-figure, majestic and beautiful, and rarely within reach. Not that the good Catholic girl I was could have said it that way... :)
 
Now that I started to think about it, I have memories only about one PL mother and two PL fathers. I don't remember how they looked (well, I don't remember about peoples lookes in other relationships neither...) There are only feelings.

In my life in India there was only me and my father, and he was a sad person who I think abused me sexually. So I don't want to think about him at all.

In my life in England (the most reacent one) my father was a merchant, I think quite rich and important figure. He didn't like me, I was unneeded 4th son of his, or something like that.

I remember that my mother loved me more than my father. I had almost reached my teens when she got seriously ill. I remember her lying on a four poster bed. (I hope I remember that word right...) And I remember me sitting on a chair underneath a window, reading a heavy book to her, wiping my nose to my sleeve every now and then. It was cold and moist in England...

Then she died and I had no friend in my family.
 
Well, I will share another one -- Mamma from Italy. :)

She was a woman of small stature, but average weight. Her face was beautiful, but tired looking. She had eyes like mine (Nicoletta's) and a long nose – with very red lips and a smile that was slow to start, but was always soft and sweet.

She had fairly curly brown hair – which she pulled up in a sort of knot while she was working. She spoke softly much of the time – and used her hands a lot when talking – but she could yell really loudly when she wanted to.

My earlier memories of her include a happy, hard-working woman. Many of my later journal entries include Mamma not feeling well. Many times – she is lying in a darkened room, and I am bringing her tea. I have memories of being told not to disturb her – to go and play outside – or to be very quiet because “Mamma is resting.”

I know, that despite whatever plagued her, Mamma still worked diligently in her garden -- and around around the house as much as she was able to. I remember my sister Lera doing a lot of the cooking and cleaning up -- with me helping, of course!

Anyone else have a memory to share?


Aili :D
 
Deborah said:
Seems like we have lived in a patriarchal society for thousands of years, and the male energy and 'force' has been ingrained in our consciousness -over many life times.
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I had a life in a female dominated society in Wales. My mother from that lifetime was a very important educator in my life and taught me things that I’ve remembered into this life. To me – it’s been my most important “remembrance” and I’m blessed to know her again. ;)

Here's a memory of that lifetime from my journal dated 2002 -- I've omitted parts of it for personal reasons:

(note – my word for mother was Mamay -- pronounced mahMAY with the stress on the second half of the word.)

I am running though the forest, giggling. The air is cool and fresh, it smells like rain. The earth is slightly damp and cool beneath my feet.

I hear a chirping and tweeting sound and look up. There is a brown bird poking her head out of the side of a nest high up in the tree. I laugh and giggle to myself again as I hear little tweets; I know she has babies!

Then I hear a small tweet from the ground over by the bushes at the base of the big tree. I walk around the tree looking and I see a tiny baby bird on the ground. I feel so sad ~ it makes my heart hurt. I don’t want the baby to die. I scoop it up in my small hands and carry it carefully up the hill. Mamay will know how to make it all better. My Mamay fixes everything.

Mamay is having a class with the big girls and I know better than to interrupt her. I sit quietly outside, take off my cape and gently place the baby bird on it. I start singing softly like Mamay does.

Girls exit as their class finishes, followed by Mamay. They all gather around me to see the little bird in my hands. All the people and noise is scaring him -- I can feel his tiny heart beating fast against my hand. Mamay sees me in the middle of the girls and asks why I am out alone so late.

I show her the bird and I tell her we can’t let him die. I beg her – “Please, Mamay, please!”

She looks me deeply in the eyes and smiles softly at me, holding out a hand and telling me to come along. She doesn’t correct me for calling her Mamay in front of the big girls in her class -- and I am glad.

She goes to her special stone and sits, pulling me into her lap. She takes the baby bird in her hands and tells me that I have done a good job – but he is very sick and that is why his mother pushed him out of the nest. Mamay explains that mothers know when babies are sick – it is the way of nature.

Fear hits me -- my heart thumps in my chest -- and I slowly look at her. I wonder if I am sick.

Mamay pets the tiny creature with a small finger, stroking its little feathers in soft circles and I ask her if he will die.

She says he will. She says I must be with him when he dies because he chose me -- he called on me for help.

She puts the bird down and pulls me into her lap, wrapping her cloak around us both. She carefully places the baby bird in my little hands and kisses the top of my head. She tells me “Anyana, you are not like the bird.” I look at her. Mamay always knows what I'm thinking. She says “You are my child and you are loved.”
Click to expand...

Does anyone else have a memory of a mother -- or a mother figure from a past life?

Aili :)
 
My memories seem so limited with my mothers. In several of my lives I've been orphaned at very young ages. I do have blurry memories from the early 1900s though. I feel strongly that I was around two years old and it was before she passed away. When she held me she was very loving and protective.
 
Aili...that's a very sad memory, but also very beautiful...thanks for sharing it...:thumbsup:

Chris
 
Some time ago I remembered a little of my mother from my Russian life at the turn of the 20th century. She was very sweet, and encouraged and supported us children in our hobbies and activities.

Yesterday during meditation I remembered new things of my mother in my most previous PL, but nothing really important. The warmest memory is of her, my grandmother and great-grandmother. For the first years of my life (mabe 6 or so) we all lived close to each other and would spend a lot of time just the four of us. Those moments were so important to me, we laughed a lot and the adults would also cry - lot of emotion and female bonding through four generations. :) I loved to just sit at the table and listen to the three of them talk about their lives, bashing men etc. :laugh: It could be said that all of them raised me, and all of them were like mothers to me. I miss them all.

Karoliina

PS. Aili's description of the pronounciation of the word "mamay" brings back something. I can hear the word in my head, said by a little girl. I think I must've lived in a time and place where I was someone's Mamay. :)
 
Hi K,

Those are sweet memories! I could almost see the four generations sitting around a table for their "daily dose" of chatter. :D What a good feeling those memories must have brought you -- like a warm contentment; a feeling of family and belonging. :)


Aili
:D
 
Ailish said:
Those are sweet memories! I could almost see the four generations sitting around a table for their "daily dose" of chatter. :D What a good feeling those memories must have brought you -- like a warm contentment; a feeling of family and belonging. :)
Click to expand...

Yes, it still warms me up inside, especially when I think about the challenges I (and the women, too) encountered in that life. It feels so good to have also memories like that. :)

Karoliina
 
Hello, everybody.

I´m a new writer, but actually I found this forum several years ago when I started to get really interested in PL research.

I know Karoliina from another forum and felt very connected. I seem to have a strong connection to her daugher as well. Anyway, we´ve been discussing privately about the possibility of having shared past lives and quite recently we´ve found something.

It is very possible that I was Karoliinas mother in her South/Brooklyn -life.
 
Hi Lila,

Welcome! :D I'm glad you decided to join us. I'd love to hear about your memories!

Aili
 
Thank you, Ailish

I've used various methods to figure out my past lives, my memories are just short flashbacks and the information I've been given from dreams is not much.

However, I had a dream quite recently, where I lived in an American small town in the middle of nowhere. I think it was the 1950's. I was inside a house and found some writings on the walls. I was terrified because they were written by chicken blood.

So this sounds like voodoo and this leads us to certain southern states of the USA.
 
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