Love Across Time

“God, what is happening?” This was a constant question I had during this time of my childhood, along through my adulthood. I have always had faith with a belief in God, although I was unsure if God truly existed. But there was this feeling, one I did not understand, telling me he did. I often wondered if I had a purpose on this earth. If there was, I wondered what it might be. Never in my deepest dreams could I have imagined this was to be my life, my purpose. I had to have a reason for being, that there was someone who loved and wanted me. Someone who could make me happy, in fulfilling my life, as I am to make him happy, in fulfilling his life. Take our feelings of loneliness and replace them with love. Not just any love, a great and powerful love. A gift from God.

***

Phoenix, AZ – Summer 2017

I am standing in his office facing the window, staring out to the sky above, trying to find a way to answer his questions, “How do you know this man? How did you come to have the information you gave me? You have details…which is why I wonder, what exactly can I do to help you?” What do I say? How am I to explain? I take a deep breath, then push away from the window, and I turn back to face him.

“Mr. Davenport,” which is funny, considering what I’ve learned about my past life, but I am no longer surprised. It seems since I’ve learned what I know, these little signs have always been there – everything happens for a reason. “Do you believe in miracles? Things that happen, but you cannot explain. A knowing…a feeling?

I can see him looking at me with that, lord, I have a real one here, look.

He asked, “Are you referring to psychic abilities?”

For a long moment, I could only stare at him, then I thought, do I continue or back out, and give up this idea? Well, after taking a deep breath, I decided why the hell not. What could I lose in doing so?

“In a way, yes.” How do I explain what happened to me? What is still happening to me? “Mr. Davenport, in 2013, after visiting Cheshire, England, something happened to me after my return. I even thought I was going mad, until after seeing a phycologist, and through her a psychic medium with thirty-plus years’ experience, who is also a licensed phycologist, who also at one time worked with law enforcement. With my phycologist, after putting me under hypnosis, along with the psychic medium, confirmed I was not crazy. What I was remembering through dreams and visions, were real.”

I was unable to look at him during my explanation, so when I glanced up to meet his eyes, he looked just as I figured, as if I am crazy. But it appears he is listening to every word I am saying, so I continue. “This man Marco, that I want you to find…well, he is a man I have been dreaming about, along with the visions. We…shared a past life together in the 1500s —” I stopped, as I was finding it difficult to explain, but I didn’t want to give up, so I let out a breath and continued. “Maybe you don’t need to know all the details, but I feel I need to explain, so you will understand where all this is coming from. By me telling you this, you will work to convince me…prove to me…he is real or not. Everything I have learned up to today told me he is.”

After I finished, I carefully watched Mr. Davenport, looking for any sign of what he was thinking, or what he will do about my confession.

Then he says, “Ms. Daniels, please continue.”

Relieved, I went on. “Thank you, Mr. Davenport. The information I gave you is from the dreams and visions I had, along with the messages I received from Marco’s grandmother, who died in September of 2015. I need to know if he is real. Can you do this for me? Can you help me prove one way or the other?”

“I am here to help you, regardless of how you came to have the information. To me, this is of no matter. If you hire me to investigate this man, then I will.”

I sighed with relief. I know this was a considerable risk, a chance of being laughed right out of his office, but it had to be done.

“Thank you, Mr. Davenport. I do wish to hire you, and I will accept whatever information you learn.” At this, I wrote him a check and left his office.

As I was walking down the hall, I started thinking about everything that’s happened in my life since this whole thing started. How it took me back to my childhood, that from the very beginning, there were signs, with bits and pieces guiding me, wanting me to know and learn what I now understand to be the truth. Even during the time when I wanted to move to England, then eventually did. I had no idea how truly close I was. To learn and know the things I learned without knowing it. I often wondered how I could remember specific points in my life in complete detail and not others. There were reasons, signs leading to this day, to him.

Rebecca Daniels is my married name, but I was born Rebecca Dahli, in a small-town north of Sacramento, California, and this is our story.

***

Verona, Italy

“Come with me. I want to speak with you, Marco?” Maria said.

Maria takes Marco by the hand and guides him to a beautiful open clearing near their family restaurant in Verona, Italy. When they arrived at the place, they sat on a fallen log near a young and beautiful lushes’ tree.

“Sit here, Marco,” Maria said, pointing to a spot on the log, “Beside me.”

Marco sat next to his grandmother, wondering what she wanted to talk to him about. After all, he was only ten years old.

However, at ten, Maria had already noticed the intelligence and maturity in the boy, far beyond a boy of ten should be. Although this was so, it made Maria think of his life before, the one she is to reveal to him today. He was also ten when he learned of his fate, and in those times, children had to behave like mini adults. So maybe, some of his life then is already a part of him now.

Maria is wearing a blue top with white pants. She has long, beautiful wavy blond hair with crisp blue eyes. Maria looks at the amazing boy sitting next to her, as he’s watching her with that sweet smile on his face. He is a handsome boy with his thick dark curls, she thought, causing her to laugh, knowing how much he hates them. He wore his favorite red and black stripe shirt and his black shorts. Maria smiles again, in the way Marco is sitting so patiently with his hands in his lap.

“How are things at home with your momma and papa, Marco?”

“They are well, nõnna,” he said as he rubs an itch on his nose, causing his face to scrunch up.

Maria laughs before grabbing Marco’s hand and pulls it away from his nose. She reaches in her pocket and pulls out a hanky, then hands it to him for him to blow his nose. Marco takes the hanky and blows his nose like a blow horn, causing Maria to laugh again. Ah, bellissima

“I am glad to hear this, Marco. Now, I have a story to tell you. You like stories, don’t you?” Maria said, although she already knows the answer.

“Oh yes, nõnna, I do,” Marco said, with a large smile, as he was filled with excitement. He loves his grandmother’s stories, since she tells the most amazing ones. Marco sat up straight, placing his hands in his lap, ready to hear his grandmother’s story.

“Well, the story I am going to tell you takes place in the 1500s, which was a very long time ago. There was a young boy, right around your age, and a young girl only a year younger than you. These two young people were thrown together by chance. A sister helping another sister who she loved very much, and who was being forced to marry this boy —”

Marco interrupts his grandmother. “Nõnna, why are they going to get married? They are only ten years old? I am ten, and I do not want to get married,” Marco asked, “I don’t even like girls,” he said, as he wrinkled his nose in disgust, looking at his grandmother with confusion.

Maria laughs, “Well, times are different now. Let me continue,” Maria said.

“Okay, nõnna.”

“When they become of age, which in those days was seventeen, and in some cases, much younger —”

Marco says, “Oh.”

Maria smiles at her nipõte and continues without stopping. “Because these two young people were thrown together by chance, they found they had a great deal in common, as they both loved the outdoors. In this love, they formed a strong bond, a friendship between a boy and a girl, which was rare in those days. Until one day, when something changed, and they found a pure love. A love so pure it connected their hearts and souls in a way, if they were away from each other, it felt as if someone was ripping their hearts right from their chest, wanting desperately to be reunited.”

Marco looked at his grandmother, not understanding what she was saying. To him, it was mushy. Maria could see this, so she tried to explain it differently.

“Marco, have you played tug a war?” Marco nodded yes. “Well, you are pulling really hard, wanting the rope to be yours, but with the other side pulling, wanting to yank it from you, but you resist,” Maria said.

“Yes, nõnna, I think I understand.”

Maria smiled, still seeing the confusion on Marco’s face, but she ignored it and continued. “This love was given to them by God, and they loved each other with all their hearts and souls. They believed their love could carry them through time; searching, seeking, wanting their hearts to one day reunite. My dear Marco, this is to happen here and now, in this lifetime.”

Just then, Maria has a feeling – a sudden urge, a need to see what was happening, not understanding what it was, only that she must go, and now. Maria closes her eyes, and when she does, without delay, her spirit is whisked from her body, taken to a place where she sees a young girl with dark brown or black hair. As she is watching this girl, she gasps, she immediately knows who she is. This is her, isn’t it? She could not believe it. This girl she sees; is the girl she was just telling Marco about. Without notice, Maria is immediately pulled back, and her spirit returns to her body.

Marco sees his grandmother suddenly go very still, and it scares him. He started calling to her, “nõnna, what is wrong!” he yelled, as he shakes his grandmother’s arm.

Then suddenly, Maria was back. When she lifted her head and saw the concern and fear on her nipõte’s face —

“Oh Marco, I am so sorry. I just had a thought, a feeling. I am sorry,” she said, then grabs and embraces her nipõte. “I am back now. Shall I continue, or shall we go in?” Maria asked.

Marco let out a breath and relaxed, he was relieved that his grandmother was alright. “Nõnna, you scared me. I thought something bad happened to you, and I didn’t know what to do.”

“I am sorry, Marco,” Maria said. “Now, my nipõte, shall I finish the story, or shall we return?” she said, pushing Marco away so she can look at him.

“No nõnna…I mean, yes, please finish the story.”

“This girl and boy I am telling you about from so long ago…is…my nipõte…you are the boy from that time. You are here to find this girl you loved with all your heart and soul, here in this time. Oh, my dear nipõte,” Maria said, putting her arms around Marco, “You have waited a long time for this to happen. Your hearts were torn apart, broken for many lifetimes. But now, here with me as your nõnna, you have another chance to be with her…your love. But my nipõte, I am afraid she is very far away. With my help, you will find each other again. This is why you were born into my family, so I can make right the wrong I did then.”

Marco was confused. He didn’t understand anything his grandmother was saying, but he was worried – he did not like to think his grandmother did something wrong, as he couldn’t imagine his grandmother doing anything bad.

“Nõnna, what did you do wrong?” he asked. But when he saw the smile on his grandmother’s face, he believed she was joshing him. “Oh nõnna, that is not real. You are playing with me.”

Shaking her head, Maria said, “No Marco, I tell you the truth. You are destined to find a great love, the greatest love given to you by God. What I did, well, that I will tell you when you are older.”

Marco, such a young boy does not understand his grandmother, but he loves her very much, and she seems to know things, things he could never understand.

“Nõnna, how? How am I to know? I am only a boy,” he said, shaking his head in confusion.

“Yes, Marco, you are but a boy, but you will grow to be a man, and she a woman. This is when you will meet.”

“What does she look like?” Marco asked, feeling a bit curious.

“Well, she is very young, but she has dark hair and tan skin, and she is very beautiful. I will tell you more as you get older. Marco, you must keep this between us. You must never tell your mamma or your papa, as they will never understand, especially your mamma. Promise me, Marco; this will be a secret between you and me?”

“I promise, nõnna.”

Marco and Maria remain outdoors for a while longer, enjoying the beautiful spring day, before returning to the restaurant. Maria looks down at her nipõte and remembers the day she first saw him after he was born.

***

Maria was born with great psychic powers, and her abilities helped her with what she needed to do. When Marco, as Robert from the 1500s was born into her family – the first moment she saw him, she knew what she needed to do. And once she touched his hand, there were flashes of her life from that time, along with a girl and boy. To see her nipõte Marco, she knew the boy in her vision was him. The girl, she wasn’t sure who she was, but she felt there was something very familiar about her. When she opened her eyes, not realizing she had closed them, she saw her nipõte staring up at her, as if he recognized her as well.

***

Maria smiles at the lovely memory.

After telling Marco the story, and then being pulled to the girl, she instantly knew the girl was the one from the vision, when she first touched Marco after he was born.

Since Marco’s birth, Maria dreamed every night of her life from the 1500s. This is when she realized who they – she was. Maria was Grace, Elizabeth’s sister, and Marco was the boy her sister fell in love with, after she forced them together. She also remembered the horror of what happened because of a decision she made. A decision that caused her to lose her entire family. It was her fault. In this, she had no doubts. Now, Maria had a second chance to make right the wrong she did then. To cleanse her soul of the karma she’d been carrying since that day. She needed to help Marco find the girl, to give them a chance to have the love they had then. To make right the wrong she’s done, not only by her, but by them as well.

***

Throughout Marco’s youth and teenage years, on to his adulthood, Maria continued to tell him about this girl, who now is a woman, of their past lives together. During the time she checked on the girl, Maria learned her name to be Rebecca. The older Marco became, the more she revealed of the life they had before and the love they shared, along with the tragedy they all suffered.

For a very long time, Marco lived with hope in his heart that one day this woman, whom his grandmother has been telling him about, will come into his life. He even found himself looking at every woman who seemed to have the characteristics of the woman his grandmother described to him. She has long dark brown hair or maybe black. She seems to change the color often. She has brown eyes, dark skin – she’s of Hindu descent.

Every woman Marco met with those qualities; he would pursue. At times, there was a feeling as if he found her, but then, his grandmother would tell him he did not. There were also times when he was so sure he did, he refused to listen to his grandmother, then later learn the hard way, his grandmother was right; it was not her. Doing this caused him great pain, sorrow, and heartache, to the point he started believing, just maybe, she didn’t truly exist. That instead, she was a fantasy he created from his grandmother’s stories. And this, even after his grandmother assured him she existed. Marco was tired of living in a fantasy world about a woman who may or may not exist or come into his life. After a time, he became bitter and a womanizer.

***

California

The family I was born into was not rich, but a poor one. I was born to a mother who had no care or interest in wanting me. She did everything during her pregnancy to rid herself of me, but through the grace of God, she failed. I never knew about this until I was in my thirties, when everything was revealed to me through my sister, and through her, my aunt. And to my surprise, my mother confirmed this.

When I learned this, I looked back at my childhood, and it made sense, since I grew up miserable and unhappy. My thoughts were then, how can I continue with this life when nothing is going right? No one cares or loves me. Not once do I recall receiving any love or affection from my mother or my father. Well, actually, let me reframe that. Surprisingly, as I think back, there was a time I do remember my father showing me love and affection, but most of my life my father seemed to hate me, and I didn’t know or understand why at the time.

Our house was out in the country, made with a mixture of brick and wood. It was a small three-bedroom house, with only one bathroom. Now, you can imagine what that was like with a family of six; two boys and two girls. Yep, gross. And the worse part of this, the bathroom was in the master bedroom. You wonder what bozo thought that was a clever idea? You got me.

We lived down a small road, with our house being the seventh house down the street. We had a long wide driveway that leads to a massive backyard. Beyond the backyard, was the water house and one acre of walnut trees. When you enter from the front door, you enter directly into the living room. The living room was a large wide room, with a brick fireplace and wood floors. There were two large windows on each side of the room facing the front of the house. To the right of the living room use to be the garage, but my parents converted it into an additional bedroom. Straight through the living room, towards the back of the house, was the dining area and kitchen combo. It wasn’t a bad size, enough for a table and six chairs. To the kitchen’s left was another bedroom, and to the right, and directly ahead was another, and to the left of that, was the master bedroom, then of course, was the only little bathroom for a family of six. Yikes.

The room on the left of the kitchen was not only a bedroom but a closed-in porch that was turned into a bedroom, but you can say it was a multipurpose room. I say this, because at one point it was a laundry room, then a bedroom, and then a bedroom and laundry room. I don’t think my mother knew what she wanted to do with that room, but whoever had the room, also had a backdoor, allowing them to come and go as they pleased. Well, maybe not as they pleased, but it was very convenient, if you know what I mean, wink-wink. And yes, that room was once mine.

Now, coming back into the kitchen, through the dining area to the second bedroom, then left through the master bedroom, was another large closed-in screen porch, that was situated at the back of the house. For many years this was the laundry room, and when it rained, there was only one way in – an entrance in the back of the house. So, to keep from getting soaked down to our toes, we would use the window in the master bedroom that went directly to the room. Beyond the room was the large backyard and walnut orchard, and every summer we were all forced, of course when we were old enough, to pick walnuts, and yes, I hated it. However, we did get a small pay, and I did like that. So, I guess you can say it wasn’t so bad.

I am the second born out of four children, with an older sister by two years, a brother two years younger than me, and a baby brother six years younger. You know what is odd, I’m sure a few of you cannot say this, but as I look back on my childhood, I do not recall a great deal, only bits and pieces. There is one thing I do recall that is very clear, was how miserable and unhappy I was. I felt there was something in me, telling me I didn’t belong. I had always wondered if I was truly my mother’s daughter. To be honest, I hoped and prayed I was not. Why? I didn’t know.

There was a time – now, I do not recall how old I was exactly, but I think I was around nine or ten. Every night, or shall I say, every morning I would wake up after dreaming I was falling off a cliff, and right before I hit the rocks below, still feeling the fear and sensation of falling.

***

Spiritual Realm

“Look at her? She is starting to remember, and so young. Her abilities are strong in this life, for her to already start to remember. Should she be remembering now?”

“It is early, I agree. I feel though, for her to begin her memories now, it can only help her. For what she has already suffered and is still to suffer. Her past can save her.”

“Then what do we do, Jesus?”

“Well, Joseph, I ask if you will remain with Rebecca. Watch over her and protect her. Keep her safe even from herself. If you feel her life is in danger, then call on me, and I will come.”

“Yes, it will be my honor to watch over and guide Rebecca. I will do all I can to help her through her struggles and the pain she will endure.”

“Thank you, Joseph. I know you are the right one to watch over Rebecca. Remember, call on me if I am needed. Otherwise, Rebecca is in good hands,” Jesus said as he looked through the doorway between the human and spiritual realm to Rebecca sitting up in her bed.

“I will, thank you, Jesus.”

***

Rebecca

Although I do not recall a great deal of my childhood, I do recall feeling how horrible my life was, how I wanted to die. To leave a world I didn’t belong in. Growing up in this family where I felt unhappy and unloved, how does a child so young handle that? Well, she doesn’t.

There was a time when I was unable to show or express love, I even believed I was incapable of it. Why? I didn’t know. I remember a time, now I cannot say how old I was, but our family dog, who everyone loved was hit by a car and killed. As everyone else was upset and crying, I was standing in front of a wall, and for some reason, I started laughing. However, as I think back to that time, I believe my laughter was because I believed they loved the dog more than they loved me. To cry was to show sadness for the loss of the dog, when in reality, I was glad he was dead.

To know a dog received more love than I did, was painful. Laughter was my only comfort. With this, my mother felt there was evil within me and decided to take me to a phycologist. I only recall one visit, what happen after that, or why I didn’t continue, I don’t know, not even to this day. I was made to feel as if I was a burden, a child born unwanted. A nuisance. So, why am I here? Why was I brought into this life, if I am not wanted or loved by anyone?

There was a day, this I remember clearly, I was ten years old, and at my grandmother’s Bebe’s – this was the Indian name for mother. We were supposed to call her Bebe Gee, but it was easier to call her Bebe – house, my father’s mother. I was in her bedroom staring at the bottles of pills sitting on her dresser, wondering why I was here? What is my reason? I could not think of any reason why I should stay in this world, and so, maybe it was time for me to leave by ending my life.

My grandmother’s bottles of pills were enticing and calling to me, and I thought, I can put a little of each bottle in my hand and take them. Then I will just fall asleep and wake up in heaven if that is where I will go. There was a glass of water that she always kept on her dresser to take her pills. If I take a little, who will notice, and who will care? No one.

***

Spiritual Realm

“This cannot be happening. Not again. She cannot do this again. We need Jesus. Jesus, I call for you to come. We need your help.”

“Joseph, I am here. What is happening?”

“Look, Rebecca’s going to do it again. She is going to take her life. Do I have your permission to intervene?”

“Wait, I will ask God.” Jesus leaves for what is only seconds, and when he returns, he says, “Yes Joseph, you may intervene. Go to her grandmother and send her to Rebecca. Quickly.”

Joseph goes to Rebecca’s grandmother, who was working outside and whispers in her ear, you must go inside right now and check on Rebecca.

***

Rebecca

Rebecca’s grandmother does not understand why, but she goes into the house to check on Rebecca. When she finds Rebecca in her room holding a hand full of pills and a glass of water, and just as Rebecca was about to take the pills, her grandmother quickly slapped her hand, causing the pills to fall to the floor.

“What are you doing?” her grandmother yelled.

I didn’t know what to say. What could I say? There was nothing I could say that would have helped me. All I could do was lower my head and cry hysterically.

My grandmother was the one who saved my life that day, but at the time, I wished she hadn’t.

Shortly after, my grandmother called my mother and told her what I tried to do. When my mother picked me up, and while we were in the car on the way home, all she could do was yell and scream at me, insulting me, belittle me, swearing such obscene words. “What the fuck were you doing! What the fuck were you thinking! Are you fucking crazy!” This went on and on all the way home. The only thing I could do was turn my head away and rest it on the passenger window, looking out to the orchards and fields as we passed them by, wishing I’d been successful in ending my life.

How could I live this life with such a hateful mother? Who should have taken her daughter and hugged her instead of yelling at her. She should have tried to understand why I wanted to die, instead of yelling and screaming at me, as if I just broke a window, not of a person, a daughter, who just tried to take her own life.

I never understood why I never tried to take my life again. As I said before, I have little memory of that time in my life. And in this, I had always found strange, having this be my only memory, when most children can remember a great deal more when they were ten years old.

***

Spiritual Realm

“Jesus, what are we going to do? The way Rebecca is feeling right now, she is going to try to take her life again. If she succeeds, she will never have what she seeks.”

“You are right Joseph, we must do something, and I think I know what. In the meantime, we will ensure she has no memory of this time in her life, of this incident, until the time is right for her to remember. You stay with her and stay close. I am also going to send her Victoria and Michael. They will help watch and protect Rebecca. As there is a great more to come, and we must ensure she does not follow the same path of her previous lives, by taking her own life. This life has to be the one she succeeds in.”

“Thank you, Jesus. She has a very good soul. She is such a wonderful and blessed child of God’s.”

“Yes, she is, as well as all God’s children, but I understand what you mean, Joseph.”

***

Verona, Italy

Maria feels a sense of urgency, a fear which overwhelms her, of the girl Marco is to find and reconnect with. She stops what she’s doing and allows her spirit to travel to Rebecca. When Maria’s spirit leaves her body, she travels to California where Rebecca lives. When she arrives, the only thing she sees is Rebecca being yelled at by her mother. Something about how could you attempt to take your own life! Maria is shocked, then without warning, a powerful force forces Maria’s spirit back into her body, with a feeling as if she was not allowed to be there. To see or witness what was happening.

When Maria returns to her body, she takes a moment to gather herself before she speaks to God.

“Dear God, please tell me Marco won’t lose her before he has a chance to find her?” Maria pleads. She’s afraid there is nothing she can do to help Rebecca. Without delay, Maria receives her answer in her mind. Do not worry, Maria. She is well protected. She will endure a great deal, but there are many here to help and protect Rebecca. So, there is no need to worry.

To hear this, a tremendous relief washes over Maria. “May I check in on her every now and then?” Maria asked. Yes, Maria, you may. We will let you know when you can. “Oh, thank you. They must find each other again. I cannot allow them to lose this opportunity, not after these last few hundred years,” shaking her head, “And because of what I did,” she said, with a feeling of great shame.

***

California

The funny thing is, when I look back to those days, after failing to kill myself, it also seemed my dreams of falling stopped. Then again, maybe not. It’s hard to say, since I cannot recall much of that time in my life.

Although, I do not recall how old I was when this happened, there was a time I believed I was not the biological daughter of my parents, since I never felt I belonged, nor did I believe I was accepted as a daughter, until one day that fantasy – bubble was burst, when my sister showed me a younger picture of my mother, and to my shock and horror, yep, I looked just like my mother when she was young. Here is when most children – daughters would have felt relief, but for me, I only felt heartbroken and disappointment to learn it was true.

If I was not my parent’s biological daughter, it would have explained everything – why I felt so disconnected towards these people, the ones I call family, if they were not. I think I stared at that picture of my mother for a long time, and found I could no longer deny the truth, I am my mother’s daughter. If you can even say that, as I did not – do not feel I am, even to this very day, although I have a better understanding of why.

In the years growing up with these people, nothing changed to the disconnection I felt with them, and even to this day, has changed nothing. I recall this need to escape, to run away and find where I belonged, but I had no idea where, or with who. Who was my actual family? These were questions I had no answers to. I wanted so desperately to be away from these people, that I started questioning the reason for my own existence, to why I was born into this world, and into this family. Unfortunately, I never found these answers, until now. But, I am going to stop, as I am getting ahead of myself. Why did I have to endure such pain and sorrow, with feelings of being an outcast?