My Daughter’s Past Life Memory

My daughter Sequoia had a connection to her past life that was undeniably real. As a baby her body was like a heater box. I never knew a human could produce so much heat.  Her dreams seemed intense to me most nights. But the nights in which her dreams took control over her sleeping state she would kick the covers off of her and begin screaming and crying. When she started to use words to speak she would wake up screaming about how hot she was “I am hot. I am hot.” I would be jolted out of my own slumber, thrown out of my dreaming world and THUNK back into my body. I would sit straight up in a panic scrambling to get up out of bed in order to reach her in time. When I would enter her room she would be sitting up, eyes glazed over, I knew she was not really awake. I could hear her mumbling and crying out to mommy. As I would sit on her bed and reach out to pull her into my arms she would stare at me as if she was not familiar with whom I was.

“Mommy. Mommy are you there?”

“Yes I am here Sequoia. Your ok now. You are safe.”

“No. The fire is burning me. I am hot. My other mommy, where is she? Where is my sister and daddy?”

I would hug her and she would be full of sweat.

“My mommy. I want my other mommy.” She would cry in my arms until she would fall asleep.

The first word sequoia spoke as a child was the word hot. She would say it in a big whisper when nearing the stove in the kitchen. I recall her touching the oven door once when it was on, she startled herself and began to cry saying the word hot over and over.

From the moment she could talk she would mention this other family she was determined was her “other family”. She would ask me daily where they were. She would dream about them and wake up screaming that her hands were burning and how hot she was. There were nights in which she would actually dream of a monster or someone chasing her or a visitations from strange would she was not familiar with. Some nights when I would enter her room awakened from her screams, with her glazed over eyes, she would be talking to someone in the room asking them to go away, and at times she would welcome me into their conversation, greeting me and telling me “Mommy this person is scaring her and won’t go away. Make him go away.”

I remember when we first moved to Portland, Oregon. Sequoia was a little over 2 ½ years of age. We moved into this rental house in the NE Alberta neighborhood. The first week we arrived Sequoia felt a connection to the neighborhood that felt very haunting to me. Her waking and dreaming mind were filled with vivid images and rich memories of a life that came alive within the walls of this particular neighborhood. Soon after we arrived to the neighborhood, she talked incisively of this family she once knew. I learned that she had a brother, a sister, a mom and a dad that she was very fond of. She spoke of a house on fire late at night and how her family all being burned in some hot fire. She spoke of her hands being so hot and how they were melting. She would hold up her hands to show me, then would sit and just stare at her hands in deep curiosity. She also would speak of her other mommy, “My other mommy died in the fire. I watched her face melt off as she tried to grab me. But I was standing next to the fire. My hand was burning I was crying. My other mommy’s face disappeared.” The more she spoke of this other family the more she desperately searched for their presence. By the end of the first week in our new home I began to see the sadness in her big green eyes. I couldn’t help but wonder if there was a flood of confusion and frustration in these memories coming back. She was so young, and we are so soulfully connected, I was lost on any clear way to explain to her why I understood what she was going through.

Then the next week in our house she had finally had it. She could not take the memories any longer. She firmly told me she was going to find her other family. She explained to me that they lived in a house around here and she needed to find the house, she needed to see them again. She put on her coat and hat and grabbed her backpack. She filled up her backpack with a few of her items. I sat and watched her get ready to leave. I did not want to stop her I wanted to encourage the memory to become alive in order to heal. I felt by letting her live this memory out, by nurturing this memory in her, it would resolve something for her. I just couldn’t image getting angry at her for this memory or ignoring it. This was part of her soul, this is a part of who she is a living being in this lifetime.

She opened the front door and I gave her a big kiss and hug. I told her I hoped she found whatever she was looking for and I reminded her I would still be right here waiting for her return. She responded with “I am looking for my other family. I love you Mommy.” My inner core was saddened. I had fear around this memory, but it was her memory and she had to find a way to accept letting go of it. What does a parent do when a 2 1/2 year old child goes through this? I figured from all the books and research I read around past life memories I would have more solid understanding of what I should do for my daughter. But actually living through this was harder than just understanding the stories I had read about. I felt I just needed to let this moment play out. I waved goodbye and let her know she could always return at anytime. I reminded her that I too was her mommy and loved her very much. I really did not think a 2 ½ year old would be brave enough to go very far. I figured she would become scared after a few steps down the street alone, however I did not count on her determination and love for this other family.

Our house resided second to the last house at one end of the street, and she was walking down the street in the other direction, there were about 5 or 6 houses she needed to pass before getting to a cross street. I let her start out by not watching her walk away from our house. When she made it in front of the house next door I stepped out on the front porch. She turned around and waved to me. I smiled and waved back. She continued to keep walking, the farther the way she got the more my own fear began to bubble. I wanted her to find her other house, but as a parent I could not let my young daughter wander too far away.  I walked out to the side-walk and continued to watch her walk towards the end of the street. I knew I could not let her walk pass the end of our block. Finally as she made it to the end of the block she turned around. I yelled out to her to stop, running down the street calling her name. She stopped and stared at me in surprise, I could see the look on her face fell from a smile to a frown. Suddenly she began to cry. I hugged her and told her she needed to come home. She cried telling me how she needed to find her other family, she needed to see them again. I asked her if I could walk with her and we could look for the house together. She nodded a no. She stopped crying after a few minutes and looked at me. “I want to go home.” She took my hand and we walk back home.

The dreams of her other family did not stop. I felt I was knee-deep in her dreaming world trying to find meaning for her within my own dreams. There was nothing I could say to help her understand, she was just too young. None of this broke our bond but actually brought us closure together. The nightmares of her burning in a fire continued on for another 6 months until we moved to a different house and a different neighborhood. After our move to a new home her dreams of the other family began to shift and eventually the nightmares of the burning house began to fade away. As memory began to disappeared in her dreams and waking life, she has become more clingy to me. She always is worried about me not returning home, or something happening to me, she is always worried about me dying. We discuss death but I can see it terrifies her and she refuses right now to believe a loss of a loved one is not as horrible as she thinks.

Other emotional trait I see in my daughter is she is always emotional about everything that goes wrong is her fault. She is constantly crying and saying in a loud voice “It’s not my fault. You think it is my fault. But it is not.” On the littlest innocent or mistake she freaks out running to her room “It’s not my fault. You think I did it.” I can’t help but wonder if she thinks she had something to do with the fire and the death of her and her family. I wonder if this emotional and personal blame she internalized has to do with her past life and the story of the house of fire, the death of her family. The way she talked about the fire, the way she acted out her the memories of the fire in her nightmares, the way she has picked up on being so emotional and clingy, I wonder if she did accidentally start the fire in her past life and she has brought that guilt, that pain, that memory into her present life.

Has you or your child experienced a past life memory?  There are many resources available to explore and find meaning within the memories of your past life. Listen to: Past Life Memories

Begin your research with Carol Bowman’s visit her website to find out more information about past lives.