Posted in Inspiration, Life, Moon-child

Healing moments

The moment Moms voice cracked and tears nearly fell, has been with me over the past days. I keep thinking back to the tremendous amount of fear and stress it took for those emotions to finally surface in front of me. I have never seen Mom cry and yesterday shed additional light onto why this might be.

Since our soup night (see post “Work in Progress”), Mom has been more open to talk about things that she has carried within herself for the past 44 years. Things dating back to the moment Dad died in a work accident, when life changed unimaginably in the blink of an eye. The subject turned to Dad again last night as I was visiting, and the prior times of her talking about him have been rare. What I mean with that is the times that concern his death. She began to say that she used to cook in the evening because Dad worked during the day. She voiced trouble remembering not to do so after his death, and I’m sure she cooked anyways. “I would run from window to window, waiting, wondering where he was, until I remembered that he wouldn’t come home anymore” she said. My heart sank seeing her sit in front of me, head down like a little pile of hurt and sorrow, that resembled the remains of what was left from years of pain and a life of struggle. It all became so much clearer for me and although I always had a great deal of compassion and understanding for her, this was on a total new level. I felt transported back to that time, as if I jumped into her body, feeling it firsthand. If I could have waived my hand to take it all away, there would have been no hesitation. I even carry that burden for awhile to hear her laugh carefree and happy, to have never experienced such horror.

I swallowed the lump that had formed in my throat and started talking to her. I hoped to encourage her to keep going, to vent, to let it out and ultimately feel better. I shared what I remembered by saying that I know it was Saturday morning and that I was still in my bed, in my room. I heard Grandpa (my paternal grandfather) ring the doorbell and I heard his muffled voice through the door. I remember holding my breath, trying to listen and all went blank from there. The next thing I remember is driving to the accident site, but I don’t remember who was driving. I see myself standing next to Mom, amongst the adults. Everything was in a fog, the voices so distant, people looked so huge and I felt so small. I see the police holding Mom back as she walked towards the gapping black hole, the door on which other end Dad’s burnt remains were. Kindly, they suggested for her to keep him in her memory the way she remembered him instead of seeing him like this. I told her that this was all that I could remember and that without a doubt I blocked much out over the years. I believe the body self protects itself during times of horror by doing so. “Well you cried and screamed, you couldn’t calm down until the doctor came and gave you a shot” she said. I can’t even articulate what I felt in that moment, hearing her say this, as I have no recollection of this at all. It’s been going through my mind ever since. She further explained that I did hear what happened through the door as grandpa was telling Mom about his sons and her husbands death. I now understand the trauma I experienced, why I don’t remember and that drugs made everything appear fog-like for that initial day. As I’m reconnecting with this moment as an adult, so many years later, I feel chills and my heart fills with sadness. It changed our lives. I understand how difficult it must have been for Mom to keep it all together. What immense amount of strengths this woman had to muster to go on after such a blow, after losing her soulmate.

Immediately there was the realization of her husband gone. Then her young daughter starts crying uncontrollably and can’t calm down. Not only her own loss to deal with, but now she had to worry about me as well. I understand now what she meant as she said that she kept everything away from me and why she did it. She’s talking about trouble, emotions and feelings that could have triggered another reaction like the one I had. I think she was afraid it would, that it would damage me and leave signs and scars that couldn’t be erased. She tried to protect me and keep it all away from me. Except I grew up a person that needed feelings and emotions, that had experienced loss and had to cope in my own way, with little help. Yet, Mom did the best she could and I was a child, not someone Mom could open up to, to find relief and comfort for her own grief. Back in those days it wasn’t common to see a psychiatrist and it was even frowned upon. Something was wrong with you, perhaps you were dumm, an idiot. How uneducated and shallow we must have been back then. We simply didn’t know better and didn’t understand. Therefore it was foreign and avoided all together. You suffered alone, had to get it together, be strong and tough, lock away your feelings, just like Mom did. I look back and my heart is heavy for the life that she had. Not knowing her own father for the first 11 years as he was a POW. Living through a war, fleeing a country with nothing but a few things on your back, the sirens that still go off here but now signal different troubles such as fires etc, besides the bomb alarms and invasions back then. Never really having a childhood and having to grow up way too soon, finding bliss with your soulmate to have it ripped away from you again. Raising me by herself with no outside help to digest all the heartache, while trying to find her own way in all of it.

Her way of talking about it to me yesterday showed progress. Although she didn’t completely let go as I sat next to her and held her after she told me about the doctor and the shot he had given me, she still released a little pressure. We shared a moment together and I didn’t held back to control my own emotions. It’s been twice now that I have seen tear filled eyes, all within this week and perhaps my purpose has changed once more. I understand as to why I had no connection to my old room. I never slept in it again after the message of Dad’s death. It was nearly my childhood room but had no memories attached to it, other then that major, bad one. I don’t remember ever playing in it with a girlfriend. It was a bad place for me, one I didn’t want to return to. Strangely I’ve been sleeping in my room since I came back to Germany and feel that I have spent more time there now then before. It is true and after all, we had just recently moved into that house back in 74 as Dad died. That room has resembled unfinished business to me in a way I couldn’t explain. I didn’t know what it was until now, I just felt that I needed to spend time in it. Since, it has become a room I feel closest to Dad these days, and a place that has given me a little sanctuary. Crazy to consider the turn around, now that I know the full story, but I know it is so because healing has taken place.

My purpose in coming to Germany has always been to help Mom, but also to find my own healing. It’s a time where her life is changing in dramatic ways as she loses control of being independent. Over the past six month I have witnessed Mom struggle many times and I know that she is not at peace. Peace is something that I wish for her, peace is something that I want her to take with her when she leaves this world. Peace is something I think I have seen glimpses of within her. My dear friend Amanda always reminds me to bring the light to Mom’s darkness. I think the light resembles peace, and I think by Mom opening up, releasing some of the emotions she had to hold for the past 44 years, is allowing a little peace and light to fill her soul, replacing the hurt with hope and perhaps this has been my purpose all along.


We are the co-creators of our life and the time is now. More than ever are we needed to support Mother Earth and each other. Together we discover and explore our unique gifts in times of strengths, in times we lean on each other, and in times when we learn from each other. This blog started as an outlet and what I ultimately called my “Warriors Journey.” It was a way to document the ups and downs of my life, sharing my hardships as well as my successes. It showcased the struggles, but more important the ways of how to overcome them. Although we are warriors each and every day, I realized that having to be a warrior, comes from a place of pain. I decided to rename this blog, and “Phoenix Rising” now stands for the story of overcoming such a painful place. My motivation for this blog hasn’t changed and I hope to share inspiration and hope, to create a sense of belonging, a space of being heard, and connecting with like minded beings who instill a sense of oneness. We are never alone, and we are unstoppable in the pursuit of what sets our soul on fire. Who I am in a nutshell... 
I am an energy healer and Reiki Master. I am surviving a chronic disease that I’ve sent into remission three times since my initial bout, 15 years ago. I continuously challenge the status quo and by doing so I change my stars. I am a believer that anything is possible. I am a hopeless romantic and I believe that true love exists on various levels. I am an optimist that will always see the glass as half full. I am a dreamer, believing in endless possibilities. Not even the sky is the limit. I have jumped off of the hamster wheel, and I am writing a new chapter. I am chasing my Nirvana to support my most authentic self. This is my story, I am that Phoenix and I am rising from the ashes. Namaste 🙏🏼💙🦋

21 thoughts on “Healing moments

    1. Thank you Novus. Don’t feel sad, there has been much progress since I got here. I think I have been healing her but it’s slow as it is new to her and she only allows so much. It takes two sides and I have to be patient to when she is ready to take another step. It’s been 44 years without healing, it just takes times. I’m remain hopeful and thank you for your kind words. Hugs


  1. The momentous transformation that was born through the energy of your ‘soup night’ is now clearly apparent. Look how it has knocked your mom’s energy into a new state, raising the vibration. The gifts you are bringing her with your magic touch are beyond description, you are truly incredible. And yet I know this is being birthed out of your own pain and suffering, it is no easy ride, to put it mildly. This is what creates the power of transformation, though, without your pain and suffering, this could not be achieved. Even the insect bites, forever taunting and nipping at you, just like the words that bite and sting, a manifestation of the universal energies moving you onwards, perhaps? This is why your tremendous strength has been so important throughout, how you have endured all this and yet continued to weave magic wonders for yourself and your mom, I will never know, beautiful wizard of love that you are.
    Here you both are, experiencing a catharsis together, enabling you both to move through something that has been stuck and immovable for so very long. And you have the tender touch of an angel in facilitating this wonderous occurrence.
    It pains me to hear you speak of how you have owned so much misplaced responsibility, even though it was partly owned many years ago by the shoulders of your child self. It is no surprise, all things considered, but I hope and pray that you are able to let all that go completely.
    For a long time, it looked like this moment of sharing open hearts and words would not be possible, it is wonderful that you and your mom have both had this conversation, that she was able to meet you in the space that you made for her and then she had to find it and choose to enter it in order to open up. That you have talked and shared thus is entirely due to your refusal to give up or lose faith, entirely due to the strength of your love. xxx

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Thank you so much dear soul sister. I too feel that soup night was very important and may laid a foundation for more talks to come. It is true and we never learn or grow when things go smooth. I have long said that we emerge as new selfs from adversity and pain. It is pain that makes us pause and pay attention. It is pain that makes us slow down and witness the process.
      And as far as the strengths part goes, I only know that we are capable of tremendous power when being strong is all that we have left. I felt this way a few times.
      As you know I am working on letting go of the misplaced responsibility. There has been a detachment and although I will always wish that things could have been different in Moms life, I also know that this was not dependent on me. It’s work in progress and I believe I will be able to lay it to rest completely when the time comes. Things are this way because I haven’t given up. I accepted what is mine to accept and even that that isn’t. One thing is I haven’t turned my back on her. My two swords, faith and love have guided me throughout this journey. Xoxoxo


  2. This is such a meaningful post Rhapsody. The path you have just taken today will reveal deep meaning for you and your Mom. It is likely that recent days have held more meaning, revelation and healing, than the past seven months. I think you will find a new connection with your Mom… From that aspect you will be able to bear the bad days and find so much more to keep you both focused on healing together.
    Many hugs, and we’ll done. Tears together is compassion together. You will understand each other (even if your Mom won’t always remember).

    Liked by 1 person

    1. I think you are right Colette and time will tell. Something has changed since our soup night and although a few storm clouds have surfaced, we seemed to have gone through them with much more ease and respect for each other. Hugs


  3. My dear dear beautiful friend. How hard it must be to move through all of this, and how brave both you and your mom are. I can relate to trying to just silence the emotions to deal with the grief and pain. When you appear alright, people don’t give you those “looks” that lead to the breakdown. It is sometimes just easier to lock it away. Be gentle with yourself and try to be patient with her. Hugs and healing.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Thank you so much my friend. I miss you and so much has happened. Thank you for understanding and your compassion.
      Times have been a challenge to say the least, but there has also been healing in both parts.
      I hope you are well. I’ll stop by when I have steady wifi. Xoxoxo

      Liked by 1 person

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