July 3rd- Past/Present all the same -Chris Ritchey

July 3, 2016 at 12:05 pm 1 comment

Other self  by Chris Ritchey

Other self by Chris Ritchey

The weeks after you died, in that horrible glass “fishbowl” hospital room ( Cleveland clinic)you had been moved to by Angela (against all our wishes), my ” being “ fragmented and collapsed.

I have no words to describe the depth of emotions that racked my brain and body, surely I couldn’t survive such an onslaught for very long. Anger at the Lombardis and the rest of that “family” , the selfishness and lack of human kindness did pull me back to the surface in part but only for a few hours at a time .

I searched the internet – for Hodgkin’s Lymphoma ( Refractory) I found other lives and mothers who were suffering and had been suffering the same terror of losing their son or daughter. This whole “gutting” because that is what it feels like- you are gutted, left with just a shell of what you once were – flopping about like some fish on a dock, desperately trying to get back to the place of safety , only to be left drying and dying whilst the sun shines above and the footsteps of life echo as they pass you by – unknowing and unseeing- this had to pass didn’t it?

I would read the blogs of mothers who had been “in” the world of grief- or to some “out “ from the time of death and the place of when they had happiness. I looked desperately to read there would be some respite to this maelstrom of emotions, there would be a hope of “getting over”- moving on “finding the so called meaning to “God’s plan” or the “mysterious ways”, hope – that I too would find some crutch or way to get back into a life before.

The diagnostic box- self- portrait  Chris Ritchey

The diagnostic box- self- portrait Chris Ritchey


What I have found, after these months and years, is a place where past and present combine, where the future is no longer looked at or sought after , just maybe a few days ahead- if at all .

I have survived, continued- desperately seeking some comfort and smiles with your sister and nephews, as those two little boys, shine and thrive in the light of innocence. I try to use the strength they give me to take that energy to be strong for your nana and father. There isn’t any strength left for much else- just the anger that rears up from time to time at humankind’s selfishness,the manipulators, lack of truth and hypocrisy, but it is short-lived not enough to bring me back from the past in my present and to a future .

artwork Chris Ritchey

artwork Chris Ritchey


It is with shock sometimes I have to date a document with the today’s date- like a cold bucket of water it brings me back to the present and the reality of now.

There is very little comfort in the past – because it isn’t of the long past where you had a childhood of laughter, dreams, your teenage years , soccer, college , where some comfort and smiles should be found.

No! for me and I know for others who have watched their child die by hours as days turn into weeks – it is those dying days that are the stronger as we turn over and over in our very soul , what we could have done, the what if – even the acceptance – the guilt of letting your child slip away whilst you watched helplessly and continued to be – Oh! logically you know you did everything you could but the child you carried within your body is still there crying out and there is nothing left but to answer the only way you can! I don’t suppose most of the population would understand but there are a few who will…………

I love you Chris….. and Ichris cuddle am so sorry ……..

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Entry filed under: Chris Ritchey, death, grief, Love, Mothers. Tags: , , , , , , , .

History Regurgitated- Ohio Preservation Meeting August 3rd- Alarming- Chris Ritchey

1 Comment Add your own

  • 1. August 3rd- Alarming- Chris Ritchey | That Woman's Weblog  |  August 3, 2016 at 10:19 am

    […] Then all hell broke loose and once again ambulances, ICU’s waiting in uncomfortable chairs, watching clocks that didn’t seem to move. The machines, the IV’ fluids, every beep of the monitor, oxygen levels, breathing counts, heart rates, every foot fall of the nurses, the chairs, the smells another two weeks of memories flooding in from the dying days of you , the alarms, doctor’s faces, the looks- you know those looks, this is not good. The tests, the scans the results. The drives to and from the hospital four and five times a day, all those emotions invading my new world of worry- pushing them away in order to deal with the latest health crisis, crippling once again. Walking once again in he early morning holding ones’ breath hoping the news overnight was positive , crisis in the middle of the night , waiting for the damned phone NOT to ring in the early hours, no sleep running on empty. But your Nana picking up the slack at home- 97 years old- and I would come home to a meal, a clean house, my bed made and a cup of tea. Too tired to answer the many phone calls wanting an update. So went July- and with it another part of me, a another slice of strength and tolerance …….. August…….. your birthday …… and the cycle continues ….. the past became the present and the future counted in days and the time between remains blurred in the moment https://thatwoman.wordpress.com/2016/07/03/july-3rd-pastpresent-all-the-same-chris-ritchey/ […]

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