Past Life Regression – Murdered Brother Is Now Her Son
JENNIFER’S STORY – Although I was living a happy, blessed life, I began to experience intense feelings of anxiety that I couldn’t explain. In addition, when I would drop my eight year-old son off at school, I felt a deep sense a grief…as if I were never going to see him again. My sadness and tears were embarrassing, and I was confused, unable to identify the cause of my emotions. These feelings went on for months, so I went to my doctor to seek help. After explaining my symptoms, I was told, “You’re depressed. Take some Prozac.” I was dissatisfied with this diagnosis, so I began acupuncture treatments, which effectively reduced my anxiety, but not my grief.
While showing me a tai chi movement, my acupuncturist did a quick wrist flick that triggered my grief. I sobbed uncontrollably for hours without understanding why. My acupuncturist called Kim Trotman for help and I scheduled an appointment for a past life regression with her the next day.
When I met with Kim, I didn’t know what to expect. I had meditated before, but I had never given any thought to reincarnation or past lives. However, I knew I needed to release my grief, and was willing to try anything to get relief. The first moment I met Kim, she was warm and welcoming with an air of calmness. She was sincere in her desire to help me, so I knew I could trust her with this process.
As we began the regression, Kim guided me into a relaxed state of meditation, then asked me to visualize myself floating in space and traveling back in time. Next, she asked me to visualize myself back on earth surrounded by fog. When the fog lifted, Kim encouraged me to look around and describe what I saw.
As the fog slowly dissipated, I immediately knew I was at a farm in Virginia during the 1860’s pre-Civil War era. I was eleven years old and could see my home, the fields where I played with my younger brother, and our slaves Jim and Ella working in the vegetable garden. As I explored the inside of our house, I was drawn to the library where my father’s office was located. We grew tobacco and cotton on our farm and Papa was a shrewd farmer and successful businessman. My bedroom was white and pink and very feminine. I vividly saw the white canopy bed with a white lacy coverlet, and pink floral design on the wallpaper. I laughed, because I am such a tomboy in this lifetime and would never enjoy such a girly room. In that lifetime, however, the room delighted me and was a perfect reflection of my femininity.
In the kitchen, there was a flurry of activity going on as our household slaves were preparing for a formal business dinner that Papa was hosting that night. That’s when I saw my younger brother, Tommy, for the first time, sneaking carrots off the cook’s table. He was eight years old, with brown hair, freckles, and golden brown eyes that always twinkled with mischief. Cook shooed us out the door, and we went to play in the field behind our house. Tommy loved, insects, snakes, and all things creepy crawly. I disliked bugs, but would feign interest because I loved Tommy and knew it made him happy. We got on well together, and were one another’s playmates and best friends.
The next scene I saw was Tommy and I sitting at the dinner table in our formal attire with Mama, Papa, a businessman, and his cranky, critical wife. As children, our role was to be seen, not heard, while Papa and the gentleman discussed a business proposal. The man’s wife kept her face puckered most of the evening and complained about everything. Mama was gracious and apologetic; Tommy and I did our best to behave, even though we were appalled by the woman’s rudeness. At the end of the evening, Papa escorted the couple out, then told Mama, “I will never do business with that man. He’s a crook and a cheat!” Mama replied, “His wife was the most awful woman I’ve ever met!” Tommy and I were shocked – Mama never said a cross word about anyone!
Fast forward a week or two, and a new dress arrives for me. It was special ordered from town and as I dressed, I felt like such a grown-up lady in my fancy new gown. It was white with seed pearl buttons, and lots of lace and satin ribbons sewn into the bodice. I put on my wide brimmed hat and sauntered through the kitchen where Cook whistled low at me, smiling her broad smile. I grinned feeling so grown up and important. As I stepped onto the back porch, I bathed in light and warmth from the late spring sun. I saw Tommy playing in the field just left of the vegetable garden. “Tommy!” I called. “Look at my new dress!” He glanced up from the grasshopper he was holding and his eyes grew big with astonishment. He smiled lovingly at me and said, “Oh, Susanna! You look like such a lady!” With that twinkle in his eye, I thought he might throw a dirt clod at me, so I was prepared to run inside. Instead, he called, “Come on over hear so I can see you in the sunlight.”
As he admired my dress with a sweet, loving smile of admiration, we heard two horses approach our property. One chestnut horse was ridden by a squatty balding man I knew was an accountant. The other horse was ridden by a man in a charcoal grey wool suit. He had black hair, a black mustache, and dark energy. I immediately called him the man with the black heart and new he was trouble. “Where’s your father?!” he commanded. Scared though I was, I politely replied, “He’s not home, sir. He went to town on business.” “That’s a lie!” he retorted. “I’ve just come from town. Now you tell me where he is!” Tommy stepped in front of me protectively. “Mister, she just told ya where he is. Can’t you hear? If you want to find Papa, you gotta go to town!” Tommy new he was being impertinent, but he didn’t like this man any more than I did, which is why he talked back that way.
Insulted by my smart-aleck brother, the man with the black heart suddenly grabbed a hatchet from his pack and threw it straight into Tommy’s chest. The force of the blow knocked him to the ground and blood began streaming from his chest, pooling in a dark puddle around his body. He was dead instantly. “NO! TOMMY NOOOOOO!” I screamed, as the men rode off. I ran to Tommy, cradling him in my arms sobbing and begging, “No Tommy, no! Don’t die Tommy, don’t die!” His blood was all over my new white dress, but I didn’t care. My brother was dead and I’d have given anything in that moment to have him back.
Ella burst out of the house onto the back porch with Mama hurrying behind her. “Don’t let Mama see!” I shouted to Ella and angled my body between Tommy and the house to block her view. Mama stepped onto the porch, gasped in horror as I huddled over Tommy. She fainted into Ella’s arms. Jim ran over to me and pried my arms off of Tommy. “You gotta let him go now Miz Susanna. It’s time to let him go.” He murmured gently. “You go on in the house now Miz Susanna, and let ole Jim take care of Tommy.” He softly nudged me toward the house, and I remember walking stunned and silent to the porch where I crumpled in a crying heap.
Mama was in a state of shock, so Ella helped her lie down upstairs in her room. When Papa came home, I bravely told him what happened. He listened silently, with tears of sorrow in his eyes. Papa knew how much I loved Tommy and understood the pain and loss I was suffering. He barely noticed the blood on my dress, as he placed his hand on my shoulder and nodded. His eyes flashed with anger. With steely resolve, Papa immediately rode off on his horse toward town. As he galloped down our drive, I ran after him hollering, “Papa don’t! We need you!” I don’t know if he heard me or not, but he never slowed down. I knew he was going to town to get revenge. Papa was going to kill the man with the black heart.
As he approached the hotel where the black-hearted man was staying, Papa walked upstairs to his room. When he entered, the man was surrounded by six of his henchmen. Papa was trembling with anger, determined to kill this man. “Are you the man who murdered my son?” he demanded. The man with the black heart stood face to face with my father, looked him dead in the eyes and sneered, “Yes.” In this moment, Papa realizes this man is an assassin who was sent to kill him for refusing a business deal at dinner the other night. He knows if he acts out his plan for revenge, he will be killed and our farm will be lost. Although he does not want to be considered a coward, Papa stares him down and says, “You’re not worth it.” The henchmen laugh and call him “yellow” and “coward”, insulting his manhood. Papa holds his head high and leaves. As he mounts his horse to come home, one of the thugs shoots Papa from the balcony. The bullet pierces his left calf, but he gets away.
Bleeding and weak, Papa returned to the farm. Ella and Jim lay him on the table in the kitchen and immediately begin to wash his wound and dig the bullet from his leg. Standing in my stained dress, huge tears of fear and concern begin to roll down my cheeks. First I lose Tommy, now Papa. This is the worst day of my life. I feel so helpless, and look at Ella quietly pleading to let me help. “Go say some prayers now Susanna. Let me and Jim take care of your daddy.”
Over the next few days, Papa ran a high fever and we were all worried he might die from infection. His business partners came to the house, and I was relieved, thinking they were here to help run the farm and check on Papa. Instead, they gathered in the library and argued about who would take over the farm when Papa died! I was so appalled at their greed and insensitivity, I burst into the library and started shouting, “You pigs! Get out of my house! You don’t care a lick about Papa. He’s sick and dying and instead of helping us out, all you can argue about is who’s gonna be in charge next. You’re disgusting and I want all of you out – NOW!” My heart was racing. It wasn’t proper for a young lady to raise her voice and speak to adults that way. When Tommy had popped off, he was killed for it. I didn’t care though. These men were supposed to look out for our family and our farm, and I was too disappointed to care about propriety. Fortunately, Ella came to back me up. “Go on now, gentlemen. You done riled up Miz Susanna and disturbed the master with all dat arguin’. It’s time for you to go.” She ushered them all out the door, where they stood shocked that both a girl and a slave woman had the audacity to speak so brazenly to ‘respectable’ businessmen. When Ella shut the door, I told her, “I’m gonna run the farm Ella. I don’t know much now, but I can read some, so I’ll learn.”
Fortunately, Papa recovered just fine and our farm endured the Civil War better than most. We housed soldiers from the Union and the Confederacy at different times, nursing and feeding them as best we could.
Later, when Papa died, Mama lost her will to live and passed on shortly after him. I took over the farm, tending to the tobacco and cotton the way my father taught me and running the business as best I could. I fired all of Papa’s business partners, knowing they weren’t trustworthy. They tried to sue me, and scare me off the farm, but I stubbornly stood my ground. Several suitors proposed marriage, but I knew they were after our land, and didn’t care one cent about me. I turned them all down, which was considered improper, but knew I had to run the farm my way.
At the end of my life, sweet Ella was tending to me on my sick bed. I told her how much I loved her and Jim and said, “I’m leaving the farm to you and your families. You and Jim are the only family I have left, so I want you to have it. The townfolk won’t like it, but it’s the right thing to do.” I told her I had the legal documents giving my rights to the farm over to Ella and Jim. She just smiled and said, “Thank you Miz Susanna. Thank you.” I passed away peacefully, smiling.
Kim slowly brought me back to the present where I felt peaceful and relieved. I was also overwhelmed by the complexity and detail of everything I had just experienced, but I knew without a doubt I had lived that lifetime in Virginia. After a few insightful questions, Kim helped me connect the people in my past life to the loved ones in my present life. My brother Tommy was the same spirit as my current son. They were both eight years old, which explained the sorrow I felt when I dropped my son off at school. I felt like I would never see him again, because Tommy had been killed at that age. Also, my father in this lifetime is the same father from my past life. Making these connections explained so many things about our relationship and why we both feel like old souls who’ve known each other beyond this lifetime. Kim also helped me deepen my awareness of why I am fiercely independent, slow to trust men in personal and business relationships, and absolutely hate wearing dresses. Some may say this is a coincidence, but I truly believe these feelings stem from my experiences in the Virginia lifetime.
Since this past life regression with Kim, my grief and anxiety have completely disappeared. I feel healthier, happier, lighter and more self-aware as a result of this experience. I would highly recommend a past-life regression to anyone who is suffering emotional distress or some other block that hinders their development. Kim’s healing energy and insight will enhance their self-awareness, clear the blocks, and help them move forward with their personal evolution.