Ancient Egyptian Memories
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Ever since I was a small child in this lifetime and glanced upon a
photograph of the statues of Akhenaten, a bolt of electricity went
through my entire body, starting in my heart. It shook me to my core.
I knew him, very well. There was no doubt about it, he was my father.
I was still in awe of this man; loved him and worshipped him. But,
Nefertiti, no. Something didn't feel right there. She was beautiful,
but I didn't trust something about her. Was she my mother in that lifetime?
Many years later, my memories of my life with Akhenaten became clearer. I was the daughter of Kiya and Akhenaten. Kiya was Akhenaten's second wife. He loved Kiya, she was gentle and loving, not vain. Tutankhamun was my brother. Images of our daily lives appeared to me. I would go into the golden temple to sit with our families. All of the kids would freely come and go from there. I loved to be there. I would stand at the back of my father's throne, then sit on his lap, then sit on the floor at his feet. I adored him. I would look up at him from my place on the floor and the kindness and light in his face were magnificent to me. Sometimes it felt like he was God incarnate, and that was a little frightening to me. My father did not distinguish which children of his were the ones from Nefertiti or Kiya. He loved all of his children. He and I had a special bond of spirit. He taught me what he believed about God, I became a priestess, and I would not hesitate to assist him as quickly as possible. I became one of his wives, too. In those days, it was common for royals to marry within the family to keep the genetic line strong and to keep the power over the country within the family. Life at Amarna was a little isolated, but it was fun for us kids. We had a lot of freedom to run and play. I loved to play in the river and ride a boat on it. I loved water. The turmoil of the priest rebellion was a shock to my system. It was total chaos. My memory is still hazy about this because when it happened, it was something that I had never considered, and found it hard to accept. How could anybody not love my father as I did? Later on in my life, after my father was gone, I understood what happened and why. I don't blame my father - he wasn't perfect, after all. He was a mortal, doing what he felt was right. If you go back in our family, Hatshepsut (and her father, brother, grandfather) all contained more extraterrestrial DNA than we, although we still had a good amount back then for human beings. This could be seen in their skin. Speaking of Hattie, she and Senemut were lovers and had a daughter together. That is the child he tutored, and why he tutored her. Nefrure was taken out by Tuthmosis III. He was terribly jealous of Hattie and was determined to be the ruler of Egypt.
When this came to me, it was so overpowering with love. I felt a little uncomfortable at first, because this was so revealing and intimate of the relationship between Tut and Ankhesenamun. In fact, I had it on my site for some years and then removed it for several years. Now I return it in this section, that will continue to have more memories of my lifetimes in ancient Egypt. One of my sons in my present lifetime was a close friend to Tut, and designed one of his tombs. He oversaw the art that went on the wall, and spirit has told me that there still exists a corner in one of the tombs where my son personally painted a message about Tut. My son is an artist in this lifetime, too, and has strong feelings towards Tut - never misses a program about him, and has been to see his traveling exhibit from the Cairo Museum. Well, here's the message I received - For Tut. I remember a love so grand, it's only comparable to the love of the One. Memories of a love so strong, time could not erase it. Amidst a time of great turbulence and change. A love between a man and a woman, so brief yet so full. I speak of you, my second husband, my brother and soul mate. Today people can't understand this union. Shall we tell them it had to do with our bloodline and deep feelings for one another, for it would be true. Together you and I lived in royal bliss. There was never too much adoration, affection displayed, mutual respect shared. You were handsome, kind, softspoken and gentle: Maybe even a bit too gentle for a ruler? You could not bear any violence, let alone a raised voice. Perhaps we really didn't belong at that time, after all? Remember how sweet were our fragrant baths and dining in the gardens; our long walks, tickling matches, massages, and private talks? Our serene candle-light temple meditations in incense-perfumed temples? Our great love for listening to music and dreaming? You even attempted your hand at jewelry designing, just for me. You were brilliant and selfless, even then. Remember how I loved to cater to you, and even dressed you? We never could stop touching one another...we still can't avoid touching each other! Ohhh - such healing touches. Our energy was, and is, magnetic together. Divine heat! Through us, in those days, there was such hope for a continued legacy began by our honorable father. So many plans and dreams. And all during such a confusing time. And we never wanted war. Can anyone now imagine what it was like to see an entire culture go from one belief system into another in such a short time? Not easy! From many gods to one god, then back to the many, then to the one! Not surprising to see that it all cracked. With all due respect to sweet father, Amenhotep IV (Ankhenaten), perhaps he would have fared better had he allowed for all beliefs? It is ironic that today people say "Amen" at the end of their prayers, isn't it? Perhaps after all, and maybe in spite of it all, some of the legacy continues? Who else knows that "Amen" was ascribed to our ancestor and a part of our names ever since? (You live on and on in us.) You do remember me, my love, in my many names - for in each life my name is changed over and over. As the gods changed, our names changed. (That's been a pattern of my lifetimes ever since.) You knew me first as Ankhesenpaaten, then Ankhesenaten to Ankhesenamum, to Ankhesenamen with you, dear one....and yet, you remember me from lifetimes before in the regal lineage. Lifetime after lifetime, this strange name-changing trend continues. No wonder I've been unable to decide what I should be called! But the essence never changes. We are still the Sirians. And you and I still recognize one another and share our love for each other. But, as strong as our love was long ago and as much as we believed in the One - our children died. Their deaths were our greatest misery. Were we somehow cursed? How could our children not have survived? Was something wrong with us? I didn't know it then, but my grief was only just beginning. Your princess, your queen, who would have done anything for you, including giving her life if it would have allowed you to live longer! And doomed we were. Before I knew it, you, too were gone - far too soon! Your death stunned me - killed a big part of me, that took until now for me to recover. And I was left all alone, the only heir to the throne. You, our father, mothers, children, sisters - all gone. All alone was I in an upset civilization, not knowing where to turn. In desperation, I attemped to cling to the seat of power and carry our name onward, somehow, some way. I couldn't bear to have to marry that old man, though! He disgusted me. So, I begged for an outsider, a prince, to marry me. Suddenly, I vanished from the record books. It was as if we'd all disappeared, and never existed. Some say I died in grief. Some say I married again. I did. It could not ever compare to being with you. That last marriage was a requirement, a duty, something I had to do. Some say I was murdered. Some say I went into the desert when our father sent word that he was making a pilgrimage to a new land. I say - ask Ay. He knows what happened. Our love is eternal, our physical contact brief. And I wonder why. Why can we not be together physically for an entire, long lifetime? Is this a treasure waiting for us some day? Or do we each have something to accomplish on our own, with ourselves, different sides of the continent, the planet? Something that we can only do apart? I tell you, it is very painful to be away from you for one moment. I yearn for your touch. And yet, I know this life is short compared to the afterlife when we are always united. One day we will never have to part. We know this life is merely an illusion.
So, I will keep this rich love for you in my heart forever
and bless each minute we can and do share. Until we are
once again together, and for eternity, may the golden sun always light
your path, offer you outstretched soothing hands to ease
your way, and endless soft kisses on your honeyed lips, reminding you
of the wonder that you are and the love that is for you, dear Tut.
© Copyright 2007, Estelle Nora Harwit Amrani.
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