Jan 3rd- No Limits- the foreword- Chris Ritchey
I start another decade, recent months have been very hard, some of the situations I have blogged about some may not ever come to light on this blog. I am waiting … I have spent most of December deciding on how to proceed . I am definitely going to “try and finish” the book NO LIMITS as it pertains to my son. Although 10 ish chapters have already been written I have had to decide how to proceed. I have made the decision to not only publish in paperback form eventually but I may start serializing each month on this blog. Here for your edification ( readers who still bear with me ) is the foreword of NO LIMITS!!!!!!
NO LIMITS
By Loraine Ritchey
“Nothing should be hidden or untouchable, if it is your truth and you stand behind it – no one should be able to silence you “
Foreword- NO LIMITS
Brave words from my son, Christopher, on a fall day, his 4th year at Cleveland Institute of Art. I had met him for a meal in Tremont, Ohio. He was so very angry, one of his projects had met with resistance and indeed censorship. His anger and frustration spilled out:
Why were his thoughts not being accepted in a very community that accepts so much more than the general population? Why would he be censored in the very open environment of an art college where nothing it seemed was untouchable?
After all, his fellow students went outside so many politically incorrect boundaries. Had he gone past where even those of his peers were feared to go? Had he come up against the self-imposed limits of a society of his peers?
I never did find out what the project was that caused the censorship and his anger that day. In true Christopher fashion, he changed his project to another, an “Anti-Political Correctness Campaign– complete with displays and posters He used the situation to “speak out” and “show” those who believed themselves to be followers of the out of the box thinking, they were still inside a box, even if the box they had made was larger than most, their walls maybe be transparent yet there were and are walls.
freedom of speech by Chris Ritchey
As I ponder the wisdom of writing the events of life ans we know it and death as we believe it to be, I know there will be questions I cannot answer, events I cannot prove.
I am opening myself, my family and my son to a world of naysayers, negativity and ridicule. I will reach the walls with this book. I will push aside and through the walls my peers in this “community” and others have erected for themselves and for me.
Ironically although I have always written the truth whenever I have sat at this keyboard and its predecessors I probably won’t be believed , explanations will abound, logic ( as we perceive things to happen)will come into play .
I have hesitated for months, even years, to tell the story from my self-imposed box. I have written millions of words on my personal blog in the 10 years since my son died. https://www.thatwoman.wordpress.com . I have written his story, I have opened myself and my innermost thoughts and feelings. I have told the tale of cruelty, searing pain and thoughts of suicide. I have exposed myself in ways not many would without fear. So then, why is it I hesitate to share all of our story, a story of continuing love, strength and astonishment?
What could be so dangerous in opening up a world of hurt to my loved ones? Why would a love that continues cause such angst and trepidation in those of my society?
Society? Oh they can’t hurt me, I am beyond their pain, their laughter The sound of laughter to one who rarely laughs is just pleasant echo of what once was. There should be laughter in the world, I do not begrudge laughter or being the source of humor. The disbelief , I don’t care whether they believe or what they believe, so many believe so many different things, worship so many gods, those slings and arrows will not penetrate my being there is an armor in “knowing” The insults and negativity that will come as the story unfolds will bring the comments-
Why not my loved one? Why them? It is the grief, she wants money, she wants her five minutes of fame, and she always was strange. , needs medication, exploiting her son. They are just consumed with grief, hallucinating.
Yes! I can hear those raucous voices, tinged with the cynicism, of organized religion or lack of religious beliefs. So why martyr my family on the pyre of society? Why open this family to those who would wound?
I HAVE to document what happened to this family and my son, for the sake of my daughter, grandsons and future generations. I have be brave, as my son was brave. I need to tell this story of a mother’s nightmare, of a love that reaches through the barriers of disbelief, of hope. I have the need to document and yet there is a fear my son will once again be negated in death as he was in life by those of “beliefs”.
Every night I see one of my son’s “projects’ from his graphic design course as it hangs framed upon the bedroom wall. It was a small project
Take three words and make the visual connection. Timid- Confidence, Aggressive- coupled with Past, Present and Future to tell a story.
It is the “future” graphic which nags at me, his future was not to be. The cartoon character of a snow boarder explaining his future and the word “aggressive”. I looked at the artwork through tears for weeks as it hung, along with other projects, on the wall. It wasn’t until I looked very carefully one day whilst dusting; I noticed written faintly on the bottom of the snowboard “No limits” and yet I too, have limited the truth by omitting a truth from my writings on my blog..
It is time to tell the story so long in waiting no matter the consequences….
To be continued … Chapter One
Dec 3rd – TIME of our Life- Chris Ritchey
Artwork Chris Ritchey
Every 3rd of the month I write a tribute to you my son , I have written , apart from the other memories of your passing over 120 posts. I write to release the pain that builds, to take the thoughts out of my mind and put them on paper, or in this case on this blog. If I didn’t they would consume me more than they do and I would not get any relief. The tears I shed as I write drop onto the desk and over these many months the varnish has all but gone – a surface worn away by my tears.
https://thatwoman.wordpress.com/category/chris-ritchey/
Other self by Chris Ritchey
How can that be possible? How have 10 years passed? How can that be? You see for most of my nights and days I am back in time , to a time where life and death and selfishness have trapped me, and not only me your father is on this same journey. I dream of you but you always have cancer and I am always searching for a cure or help, then I wake there is a moment of relief that it was just a dream and then I realize I have woken to my nightmare, there was no cure no help… I am in reality……………..
The diagnostic box- self- portrait Chris Ritchey
I am reminded of H.G. Wells and The Time Machine , I feel like the lead character sitting in that machine , only the lever is not controlled by me but by a profound grief, that is stronger than any will of mine. I sit in place in my own device as I watch the world around me go from the future to the present.
photo -self -Chris Ritchey
Every now and then I leave the machine of grief and experience the world of the present, happiness comes , anger comes, passion – very rarely, duty to others is limited and they are the ones I hold most dear. That is why although it is now 10 years this December 3rd. since I last saw your face, kissed your cheek, held your hand and lost ME. No longer Loraine, but a facsimile who left this place when you did . The unbearable is borne tempered by love of your family , sisters, nephews brother in law and father. Deep breaths and the conscious and sub-conscience effort by the brain to hold back the excruciating emotions that wrack the physical body.
Anger at those that through hypocrisy and selfishness ( Tim Sue Lombardi, Angela (Lombardi – Ritchey) and now Murphy – and their family and church ( Father Daniel Divas whose wickedness ( in my opinion) perpetuated and took whatever compassion with them in their act of callousness. not to be forgiven- then or now
https://thatwoman.wordpress.com/2009/12/14/something-wicked-our-way-came/
https://thatwoman.wordpress.com/2010/12/11/december-11th-the-beginning-of-the-beginning/
but that same anger also has kept me upright.
The 10th anniversary marked by the yearly posts of December 3rd and as the new year dawns once again to finally finish the book- NO LIMITS.
Starting a new chapter both literally and figuratively -not the regurgitating of posts- but of your life and presence in the present………..
The Touch- Chris Ritchey
Your words ring through my mind and indeed is part of the forward in the book
“Nothing should be hidden or untouchable, if it is your truth and you stand behind it – no one should be able to silence you “
freedom of speech by Chris Ritchey
https://thatwoman.wordpress.com/2010/12/04/dec-4th-how-cold-is-cold-lombardi/
https://thatwoman.wordpress.com/2011/12/03/december-3rd-chris-ritchey-yesterday/
https://thatwoman.wordpress.com/2012/12/03/december-3rd-the-trilogy-of-tears-christopher-ritchey/
https://thatwoman.wordpress.com/2013/12/03/december-3rd-memorial-chris-ritchey/
https://thatwoman.wordpress.com/2014/12/03/december-3rd-there-is-no-peace-chris-ritchey/
https://thatwoman.wordpress.com/2015/12/03/december-3rd-end-of-days-chris-ritchey/
https://thatwoman.wordpress.com/2016/12/03/dec-3rd-the-loop-chris-ritchey/
https://thatwoman.wordpress.com/2017/12/03/dec-3rd-the-waiting-chris-ritchey/
https://thatwoman.wordpress.com/2018/12/03/dec-3rd-crumbling-walls-chris-ritchey/
My time here in this world grows shorter as the days continue – I have to finish this book and publish – as “truth is definitely the daughter of time” and time is running out…… I love you and miss you every moment of these days and oh so long nights no matter the year I find myself existing……
Nov 3rd – Museum of the Heart- Chris Ritchey
This is an old house, and I am getting old.
I am comfortable in this house because it reminds me of the homes of my family, the people I loved with whom I shared my early years growing up in England.
The fringes on lampshades , large cabbage roses in a vase on the table and on the walls and bedspreads.
Then there was always chintz in the old cottages and especially in my grandmothers’ abodes, the wealthy one especially, along with velvet winter drapes , changed to chintz in the spring I always thought of her living room with silks and overstuffed furniture, brass reflecting the firelight as a bit of an Aladdin’s cave. Yes! due to drafts and no central heating drapes and curtain were changed out from spring and autumn. I used to do that in my younger days, slipcovers going over the couch etc. when summer arrived.
When my mother had to leave her home in England , she brought with her the things she loved. When she finally had to move in with us
https://thatwoman.wordpress.com/2011/09/26/what-are-they-thinking-the-thought-process-stops-here/
We had to clear away a lot of things – six rooms did not go into the two rooms we were able to give her.
Still some of the items she could not bear to give or throw away. Those items that didn’t fit into her new living space had to be introduced to the rest of my house.
One of the reasons I have two antique cocktail cabinets, one a wedding present from my parents and one my father made.
A couple of years ago I featured in a magazine, Pulse.
The writer/photographer came to interview and as she went through the house she exclaimed
OH this is like a museum!!!
To tell the truth I was a little taken aback.
No!.this was my home, yes some of the things are antiques having come down through family, probably not worth a lot but you would find them in most “cottagey type homes” in England.
( Horse Brasses, warming pans , brass or copper kettles and fire fenders ( very useful)
Some things are old not antiques just remembrances of holidays, gifts through the years. Then there are the things my children made or purchased for my birthdays , Mother’s Day etc. and finally your artwork Chris. You work hangs along side , pride of place on the walls with the portrait of the old lady – circa 1785,
and paintings and water colours from your great – great grandfather and great great uncle.
Fairyland painting by Jack Stokes
Oil by Jack Henry Stringer
Nana’s needlework pictures . These are things I love and live with and yes! use everyday and try to dust at least once a week……….. .
Today , as I was thinking about this old house and a “museum piece” I realized that although a few years ago I had decided to de- clutter- out with the old…..life got in the way and your dying – leaving me just your work ,
Breath of Life – Celtic Knot – Chris Ritchey
and then my mum having to spend her last years here and all the things she loved coming with her,. Artwork and items made by my father came with her. The little gifts from Braedyn and Gavin, Nikki I realized in some way it is a museum – this old house– a museum of my heart.
I love you more each day that passes and I am as proud of you as I ever was…. you are still in my heart and home…………
Reaching out- art work- Christopher Ritchey
How does your garden grow? Part Three
Part One – https://thatwoman.wordpress.com/2019/08/18/how-does-your-garden-grow-part-one/
Part Two – https://thatwoman.wordpress.com/2019/09/22/how-does-your-garden-grow-part-two/
I haven’t had much time for “writing” ,what little time I have had has been trying to get the ponds and the garden winterized. The large pond that had to be Heron proofed needed to have all the floating vegetation taken out . This meant all those water hyacinths and water lettuce had to be removed. They had protected the fish from the evil eyes of the Heron, denying them breakfast, lunch and dinner.
The pots and shrubs , such as the raspberry bushes that had seeded themselves around the edges had to be taken out before their roots compromised the liner.
They have done their job of denying the Heron a place to land The Yellow Water Iris cut back. This was all done because the frost would blacken and kill the plants in the pond and cause toxicity as they decayed.
The water is crystal clear thanks to three pumps and an aeriator , clear enough to be seen by those high flying angels of death to my fish . I am crossing my fingers they are “fishing elsewhere”.
I was surprised after losing half of my fish to the Heron some must have still managed to procrerate. In the clear water I saw at least 4 tiny black fry and three larger fish that had turned to gold/orange. So life goes on in the pond.
My Mothers Day Ghost Koi present from Chris 10 years ago continues to remain the King of the Pond.
The one thing I was pleased with was the fact that I was able to pick some of the wildflowers ( that are still blooming) this autumn bringing memories of those two little boys sewing the seeds with abandon.
My mother’s balcony, this time last year, got the minimum of clearing away. I threw away most of the smaller pots but never got around to clearing out the dead petunias and pansies.
With all that happened in Jan/Feb/March and April with health issues and hospitals I didn’t do anything on the balcony apart from placing a pot of pansies in remembrance of my mum. I certainly didn’t have the energy to plant up the remaining window boxes and plant stands.
I was amazed when I went to put out the seat cushions the Petunias, yellow Daisy types flowers and Pansies had come back from the previous year.
Well, I was flummoxed , February’s winds and temperatures had seen us losing the ornamental plum and lilac bush that were well established. How could such delicate petunias and annuals have managed to not only survive but to flower beautifully in abundance ? Once again the answer came not from the supernatural but from Monty Don. https://montydon.com/
Apparently my 2nd floor balcony faces south and the house has protected the pots and plants from the winter winds , coupled with the fact the frost stays lower down and the fact I didn’t have the energy to dump out all the pots before the winter as had been done in previous years. I have left the boxes and the grasses that also survived . Weeds they might be but I did notice the birds had a lovely time eating the seeds all winter. In fact I left one window box to the birds
The hedges clipped beautifully by my neighbor has become a sort of Hotel for nesting pairs of Morning Doves, Cardinals, and dozens of sparrows.
On the other side of the garden where the hedge remained unclipped and left to blossom attracted bees both solitary https://www.buzzaboutbees.net/solitary-bees.html and honey. In fact with the birds coming in to drink and bathe in the water fountain that area was very “busy” all spring and summer
All in all with just having the grass cut and the goodness of heart by my neighbor in cutting back the hedge , grandchildren planting wildflowers and sunflowers, the garden ,considering our lack of daily maintenance Mother Nature gave pleasure to not only the birds, bees and wildlife but to me as well. Fragrance of Lavender, Honeysuckle and Roses help to soothe the troubled mind and give some peace and energy during some very rough times this year
To be continued in the Spring! ( I hope)
October 3rd- out of reach- Chris Ritchey
The brief– take a photo of self taking a photo of self……….. and I found that classwork after you passed. I remember, I cried thinking how at that moment in time you were captured on the other side of the window just out of my reach. I feel that still that you are just there , a shadow, just out of my reach ………..
I felt so strongly about the photo I had it made into blank cards. I used them to thank people for all they had done after you died and I sent one , pouring out my heart to the Vatican . I was so confused as to why these “strong faith based Catholics” (Lombardis) and their priest – Father Divas decided to take from your family any semblance of closure and peace…… I wanted clarification on how this was part of a faith based on love and kindness not retribution and selfishness!
https://thatwoman.wordpress.com/2014/01/27/when-death-becomes-divorce-chris-ritchey/
Well I did receive a letter back which was published on my blog. Telling me to forgive , well not likely to happen then or now , not “Catholic” just “Celtic ”
BUT I remember thinking that somewhere in the archives and files of the Vatican is a letter of heartbreak with your artwork – Just out of Reach– amongst all the millions of papers and prints and works of art.
I love you my son that has never gone away and neither have the tears I cry and won’t until you are no longer out of my reach………..
How Does Your Garden Grow – Part Two
https://thatwoman.wordpress.com/2019/08/18/how-does-your-garden-grow-part-one/
Well it has been a strange summer, incessant rain ( as I remember it ) in June and then sun , sun, sun and now September and I am sitting here on the 22nd of September in the air-conditioning watching the trees and flowers wilt in the intense heat and sun shine.
I love September, usually because the warm days , cool nights and some rain give the flowers their last burst of colour. Not so in the garden this year. The pots planted around the pond to keep out the dreaded Blue Heron ( my angel of death) look stringy and awful. They did their job but hid the water and fish not only from the Heron but from me.
Before the Heron
After the Heron
The roses reacted to the damp and wet and cold in June by getting black spot and another fungus which meant cutting them back and giving them medication. My mini – orchard suffered, mostly the cherry trees they look decidedly problematic. https://www.canr.msu.edu/news/yellowing_leaves_and_leaf_loss_reported_in_tart_cherries
There isn’t a lot I can do , not being young and agile enough to climb ladders and spray and prune. Needs must and my energy is used up inside the house at the moment. So fingers crossed the trees are strong enough to survive. The towering Sycamore looked awful earlier on in the spring with its blight but after a few weeks regained her leaves and looks healthy enough, so fingers crossed.
Although the blossoms on the fruit trees were plentiful and gave much pleasure to eye I am afraid, the birds got the cherries ( I managed one and it was delicious) I also managed one plum, a couple of apples and two pears . The peaches, although so heavy they bent the branches , by the time they were full and ripe disappeared overnight, squirrels played havoc and then the Puckwudgies. ( Groundhogs to uninitiated to this blogger) crept under the fence from the blue house and had their fill, same with the apples . It was almost like the squirrels were working for the groundhogs!
I live in hope that next year I can get at least some cherries and plums. The raspberries also went the way of the birds but they also kept the Heron from landing so it was a tradeoff.
Not all was frustrating , following Monty Don’s advice https://montydon.com/ I decided to have the grandchildren scatter wildflower seeds and sunflower seeds in the unused garden. Apparently weeds love good soil but wildflowers can thrive in poor soil and can out produce the weeds. Well why not give it a try, I certainly could not weed this year and even getting the grass cut on the now double lot has been a chore. Happily, the boys , took to their task with gusto only the seeds were sprinkled with great abandon, not paying any heed to boundaries . Hence wildflowers popped up everywhere even in the gravel .
And Yes the wildflowers did keep the weeds at bay, this is part of the garden planted with the wildflowers
and the missed part … the weeds
I guess Monty was right and so since the wildflowers did their job of keeping down the weeds and bringing in the bees and pollinators they will have an even bigger spot in the garden…………. to be continued
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