F. P. Dorchak

Speculative Fiction (New Weird) Author

Soul

The Ghost Inside My Child

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“Airplane Crash! Plane On Fire! Little Man Can’t Get Out!”

I read about James Leininger (now, a full-fledged Eagle Scout teenager) years ago (around 2000, or so), when the story about the young two-year-old reincarnated from the downed WWII pilot, James M. Huston, Jr, first came out, and have been following his progress ever since. Read the book, Soul Survivor,  his folks published.  The other two stories of reincarnated children on this video are new, and I’d never heard of them before but are just as riveting. I don’t want to say anything about them, so you can enjoy the discovery on your own, in the above, 41-minute video, which was just posted on the Leininger blog.

Not shown in this video, because it’s about children, is another pretty incredible story, involving Jenny Cockell. I highly recommend checking out her and her books, one of which is titled, Across Time And Death, A Mother’s Search For Her Past Life Children.

The thing about reincarnation is that everyone does it. It’s not just those who’ve died nasty deaths…but those who have died nasty deaths are probably more apt to recall past lives, because the circumstances had been so horrible upon their deaths. I’ve also read that some souls, upon death, immediately turn around and jump back into physical life—that doesn’t mean they’re reborn in the same year, that next second, but that they just don’t take any time to “relax” or assimilate their deaths…and jump right back into physical reality in whatever time period they chose (and in James’s case, he describes a little about that briefly in Soul Survivor…about how he, essentially, “floated around” for a period of time looking for the right parents, and observed them for a little before choosing them—note, I said choose).

And, as you watch the above video, consider this…those personalities who have reincarnated into our time? They were also reincarnated in their lives.

Ever consider that?

We all “reincarnate” throughout all our lives, in that (in my humble opinion) we all live multiple—and simultaneous—lives. Life is far too intricate and wondrous to be limited to one, single life. We all have far too much to learn, and we just can’t fit it into one life. I’ve talked about this before in other posts.

It’s disheartening that situations like these arise and the parents involved are not equipped to deal with them. Need to “make it better” or can’t “fix” it. There’s nothing to fix…only to understand. And in understanding, it’s not about the previous personality taking over the current one’s life. It’s simply a matter of understanding what’s happening, fully addressing it, helping the child understand…but also understanding that your life is yours…not anyone else’s…not even that previous personality’s. One should not be worried about a child talking about “another mother”…or that that “other mother” will take over your affections. Don’t you see this can be Daisy-chained ever farther backward, with each previous person’s reincarnational lineage? To everyone? What matters is your present life. What matters is you as a parent or uncle or friend schooling the children with these memories that it’s okay and natural to have them. It is…but you’re in a new place now, those memories cannot really hurt you. Children cry and wail for all kinds of reasons, and we soothe them. Sooth them, here, too. I know there haven’t been tools or guidelines out—until recently—on how to deal with this kind of behavior, but with an open mind and a little research you can understand what’s going on through venues like this, books like Soul Survivor, and so many others. A past life does not have to take control of your child…reliving its memory is one thing, and is healthy to the greater understanding of who we are, why we behave as we do…why we’re afraid of flying, or water, or have  a penchant for music, alcohol, or wide, open plains and Mongolian barbeques. We need to understand these things, not stomp them down into our unconsciousnesses, where they will never really go away, but breed and fester and somehow manifest into symptoms we can never truly understand and end up medicating for the rest of our lives.

Reincarnation also shows how we are all so intimately connected.

Maybe a parent in one life is our spouse or child in another. It should give us a far greater appreciation of each other, that we are all not that different, no, not at all, not even all that separated from each other, no matter that we live on different sides of the planet. That death is not permanent. Life situations are not permanent. That our souls actually do survive beyond death and that, hey, here’s a shocker, we not only choose the lives we live…but also our parents…our family members.

Reincarnational memories usually happen before six years of age, usually around ages 2 or 3. For many, these memories eventually fade after 6 years of age…unless one makes an effort to keep them. I have one instance when I was about six years of age that involved the Civil War, but have had other feelings and predispositions, like an interest in B-17s.  The problem with getting these later is that they’re more filtered by your current life’s beliefs and minutiae, so the memories are not as fully developed, not as complete.

Don’t let reincarnational memories frighten. Be smart about them and learn from them. Be open to them…and be open to your children about them. If you think children can’t handle them, consider what they’re already going through…what they’ve been through in a previous life. Be a parent and guide them through it. If they’re already talking about “my other mother,” describing gruesome death scenes, it’s probably a pretty sure bet they can handle the conversation you control. It’s probably a pretty sure bet that all the good you tell them they can handle. If you don’t understand it, tell them you’re not sure, but together you will both find out what it is, what’s going on, and explore what your child is trying to tell you…but that memories cannot hurt them. Ignoring them, stomping them down can.

Be a parent.

Apply the same techniques you would with any other situation that children are having a hard time with, or are afraid of. Just don’t ignore it. There’s so much to learn and grow from.

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The Death of a Man

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Unknown Person
The Great Unknown (Unknown Person, photo credit: Wikipedia)

My wife and I attended the funeral of a neighbor this past weekend. His name was Eddie.

Eddie, whose particulars I will not get into to maintain family privacy, was someone my wife’s family had known for a long time. Eddie was also a fixture on his patio, smokin’ cigarettes and tossing balls (and other objects) for his dog to chase after. He is survived by his kids, mom, and other family members.

What is the measure of a person?

What is the sum total of one’s life?

How does one’s death affect everyone they’d ever met?

There are so many variables that go into any life, and trying to summarize those into an hour or so’s service in their honor is just crazy impossible…but said services are not about summarizing the passing of the life in question…they’re about closure for the those who remain behind. About missing the sound of the deceased’s voice, his or her laughter, the touch and feel of his or her’s hands or kisses. The strength of their hugs. How they helped you through your problems, or how you helped them through theirs. How you laughed and cried together. How they “reality checked” you. The security of their presence…how they strode across the Earth and played with children, lent dimensions of depth to our lives. The sparkle and life of their resilient, oh-so-alive eyes….

Eddie was a handsome devil in his younger years, and certainly still handsome in his later years (and by “later years,” I mean he was about my age), including the sporting of a beard that kinda gave him that sea-captain-of-yore look. We always hailed each other and sometimes entered into conversation (and sometimes or two a good laugh) when we were both out back, me grilling, mowing, or doing other yard work. Whatever was going on with him—and inside him, because the exterior is a mirror of the interior—he always seemed to take things in stride. He recently told me he’d been very happy in starting up a new hobby/business venture that had always kinda interested him.

“Hey, Eddie!”

“How ya doin’, Frank!”

The wafting of his cigarette smoke (yes, it was only a little annoying, and well…).

It became a “thing.”

His medical condition just never quite got better, and he kept finding himself in the hospital or some extended care facility. We weren’t “close,” in that we went out, hung out, kinda thing (we traveled in very different circles), but I did help him and his mother out in various ways. Unexpectedly—at least to my wife and I—he made that final trip into the Great Unknown we label Death, and we just couldn’t believe it.

He’d been on the mend.

He looked and sounded strong-as-bull, same mischievous tone to his voice. It was a strong voice. His energy felt good about him. He was once more returned to the “old Eddie,” the healthier Eddie—

Next thing I know…gone.

Boom.

I didn’t know Eddie in depth, but I had known him for many years as a polite and pleasant neighbor. Never had a problem with him. He seemed like a good man, a man just trying to get by, provide for his kids, his mother (his dad had died a few years ago). And he was always fun to talk with. We’d offered our services and checked up on him and his mom during the nasty flooding in our area this past summer. We always looked for him every time we went outside, so it’s no longer the same, going out there picking up on the smell of his cigarettes, no longer seeing him there, in his usual perch, his dog looking for me in that usual ways dogs do….

In our deaths, we affect other’s lives. We leave voids, unfinished sentences. Our presence in life builds an expected stability to our lives, knowing we can depend on the surety of life, a community, like pleasant friends or neighbors we enjoy interacting with in our own, personal ways. Keeping an eye out for each other. And when we leave…our ghosts remain…as we look in their gone directions and ghost patios and still see them waving to us with their unique smiles. Still hear their now-hollow voices only in our minds. It’s a weird thing, when you think about it, and such a young man…gone, now…actually leaving a void in the lives of two people not related to him….

Do you ever think about the people you know who have died that you weren‘t close to?

But, as with family members I’ve lost, I’m not sad for them…sure, I miss them and their presence and everything that goes with that…but, I’m happy and excited for them. They’ve made the decision (I believe we all choose the timing of our deaths) to move on. Done what they’ve come to do and experience.Eddie is free to return to Earthly life or move on, and I’m glad he spent some of that time in our circle of influence.

I wonder what he’s doing now.

So, to that sea captain of yore, I bid you fair winds and following seas, Eddie! Thanks for spending part of your life on this Earth in our company, and may your further adventures be exciting and fulfilling!

Oh, and, one more thing…

One day, shortly after having heard of Eddie’s passing, I went out back on our deck…and smelled cigarette smoke.

I’d shot a look in “his” direction (for real and fast—it was that weird).

Nobody.