Dolores and the Round Hotel. Part 3

I found myself sitting in the circle again. This time I sat directly on the floor. Dolores just seemed to be watching me, waiting. Both suitcases were in front of me. Side by side. The blue suitcase was boxier and smaller, and as I recall, somewhat lighter than the brown suitcase. One of the 3 clasps on it was already sprung.

“Go ahead” Dolores said, gesturing with her head.

I opened the other two clasps and used both hands to lift the lid of the case. The inside was lined with a thin brown fabric, worn in places with threads hanging. The contents revealed letters, photographs, train tickets, paper leaflets and programs and other items one might generally term as “keepsakes.” I saw a pair of ladies gloves and a handkerchief tatted with on the edges with a lovely rose.

Rose.

I looked up at Dolores wondering to myself if this suitcase belonged to my mother’s mother. Her name was Rosa. Dolores gave a small nod of her head. “These are her stories. These are the memories and the ancestral energies from Rosa that you carry in your own DNA, Candace.”

I glanced down into the case and looked more closely at some of the other items. I picked up an old photograph of a toddler wearing a giant bow, a pinafore dress and carrying a small easter basket.

“Your mother as a small child,” Dolores explained. “This is your grandmother’s memory of being a mother to your mother,” I set the photo back down. “But there’s another photo in there you should look at.”

I shuffled some of the letters and other items around and spied a slightly larger photograph. It was of a young woman standing by a doorway. She had dark hair pinned up simply and severely. She was dressed plainly and staring expressionless right into the camera. I glanced up at Dolores. “You’ll recognize her in a moment. Look at her eyes.”

A few moments passed and then the memory came flooding back to me.

“This woman is whose life I experienced in one of my own past life regressions!” Dolores nodded. “But who exactly is she?” I was remembering her sad life story.

It was then the others still sitting in the circle returned to my awareness. Each of them perked up and took notice by leaning forward or shifting in their chairs. They were all most interested in hearing more details too.

“Who she is is a bit complex to explain,” She said, “However it is her story that is most relevant at the moment.”

I found myself shaking my head with a bit of exasperation. “Dolores! I don’t care if its complex. Just give me some context about who she is- before we go into her story. I really want to know.”

“Okay if its that important to you.”

“It really is that important to me. Who is she?”

“She was what you would most easily understand as a ‘simultaneous life aspect’ of your own grandmother Rosa.”

I found myself digesting that thought and then automatically whispering, “Therese. Her name was Therese.“ I shook my head. “I didn’t know her name before this moment.” I took a couple of deep breaths as I began to put it all together in my mind. “So, let me get this straight. Therese was a woman who lived at the same time as my grandmother Rosa, but was part of her same soul energy?”

“Yes.”

“And I had a past life regression where I experienced life as Therese?”

“Yes.”

“And Rosa died of TB.”

“Yes.”

“And in my PLR Therese died of ‘consumption’ which is just another term for Tuberculousis.”

“Yes.”

“And wait a second. Even the past life regression my dad had in 2014- it was all about poison gas in the war- and the damage to his lungs, and how that connects to his current diagnosis of COPD.”

“Yes.”

“And Mama. Mama died because her lungs filled with fluid after her stroke. That connects too?”

“Yes.”

“And all of these stories tie together somehow energetically.”

“Yes.”

“And the bigger picture of it all has to do with the current timeline of humans now and this illness that so devastates the lungs, on the planet in 2021.”

“Yes.”

I turned to look at the others in the circle. “And all of you are here right now too because some of your own stories are connected to all of this that is happening right now too, correct?”

Slow and silent nods and realization spread across their faces and everyone sat still and quiet and took in the enormity of it all. And it was at that moment I noticed that the man on the cot, my grandfather, shifted a bit under his thin blanket.

Dolores said, “Looks like Rudolph might be waking up.”

To be continued…