When Premonition Becomes Hindsight

March 15, 2010 at 3:07 pm 3 comments


“In search of my son- in search of me.”
Part One In search of my son- In search of me
Part TwoTourjours Moi-Always Me
Part Three Always Me – Always Chris
Part Four In search of My Son-
Chris Ritchey – Thanks

Part Five Dark Humour- Shedding a Light
Part Six – The Unfinished Portrait

Part Seven– The Unfinished Portrait- The Artists

Part Eight

When Premonition Becomes Hindsight

I know who I am – where I came from – who has contributed to my human portrait -I know who I would like to be – I know what is inside my head . But who or what formed the way I think, feel and react? Do those that are really close to me and think they know me really know the essence that is me?

Half the time I don’t even know why I do the things I do , it is as if I am like a puppet under the direction of “who or what”- It is if I am following some script already written and no matter how I balk

( I am not getting involved in this or that project – only to end up in the middle of it)


or if I try to change the direction of the play I always end up back on the stage of the “unseen playwrite” playing the character as written.

How many times I have started an article with a planned direction only to find as I do the “proof read” it wasn’t the article the way I had planned it at all? It is as if the key board is taken over by someone else , another part of my brain perhaps, DNA memories of past ancestors who were the writers in my heritage.

I know for a fact that there are two or three major misconceptions about “this” “that woman”

1. The perception that I am strongI am NOT I am a blubbering , weak at the knees bundle of pathetic ( a trigger word) jelly. I always have been when it comes to illness – illness scares the hell out of me – Cancer especially –

I remember the first time I was introduced to the word. CANCER

I was 7 and playing in the living room in my imaginary world of make-believe ( as “only” children are want to do); the television was on in the background and a cartoon like character came on with a public service announcement – The 10 warning signs of Cancer

Why did this particular public service announcement have such an impact on a 7-year-old? Heart disease , tooth decay, kidney failure or any of the other myriad of announcements never had the same effect on me before or since.

But I can vividly remember that afternoon , the sun shining in through the big window and being scared to death , panicky , and a coldness that swept over me sending me screaming into the kitchen and to my mother.

And the word Cancer has had the same effect on me ever since. A premonition of things to come in my life?
Premonition

1 : previous notice or warning : forewarning
2 : anticipation of an event without conscious reason : presentiment


Source

Today as the temperature hovers around 60 most of the snow has melted I should have been pleased to see a taste of spring. In years past I would await eagerly such a day . I would be anxious to see the snow drops and the daffodils and tulips planted in the fall pushing their way through the warming earth. I always have had great pleasure in spring.

But three years ago when it was time to plant and replenish the bulbs in the front garden- I couldn’t do it I had an overpowering feeling of great sorrow.

I had a “feeling” that spring would find not a feeling of joy for once, for the first time in decades no more bulbs were planted.

The next spring came with it the news of Hodgkin’s Lymphoma and whilst there was great hope when the fall came and a time to replant again the sorrow prevailed as I looked at the bulbs on sale , once again I was unable to plant for the joy of spring.

Another spring and more horrible news that came with the world beginning anew in my little garden.

I went into the garden this morning, as the snow drops and daffodils are slowly making their presence known I realized the great sorrow that I had felt those three years ago washing over me a ( my son was lost to me this spring) , it was that same intensity of sorrow that I had felt on that autumn day three years before – only more so – A premonition, the script , a tragedy in the play that is being perfomed on this , my stage.

To Daffodils by Robert Herrick

Fair Daffodils, we weep to see
You haste away so soon;
As yet the early-rising sun
Has not attain’d his noon.
Stay, stay,
Until the hasting day
Has run
But to the even-song;
And, having pray’d together, we
Will go with you along.

We have short time to stay, as you,
We have as short a spring;
As quick a growth to meet decay,
As you, or anything.
We die
As your hours do, and dry
Away,
Like to the summer’s rain;
Or as the pearls of morning’s dew,
Ne’er to be found again.

To be continued

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Entry filed under: Brit take, Chris Ritchey, death, journey, writers and writing. Tags: , , , .

Complexities- Curmudgeon- and Editorials When Premonition Becomes Hindsight – Part Two

3 Comments Add your own

  • 1. dave c  |  March 15, 2010 at 4:37 pm

    The day dark with rain
    Young leaves struggling to open
    You, too, have your tears.

    Ann Attwood Haiku

    Whatever the script has in store I am glad that it brought us into each other’s lives.
    Dave

  • 2. Loraine Ritchey  |  March 15, 2010 at 4:41 pm

    Well Dave don’t be too glad yet.I seem to be a bit of a lightning rod for pain .don’t get too close 😦 I would hate for you to get caught up in the vortex.

  • 3. Anonymous  |  March 15, 2010 at 5:21 pm

    This comment moved to correct blog post

    Your kidding, correct Tom [Skoch]?

    You in the media police yourselves ……………………………

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