Posts filed under ‘death’
May 3rd- Words are all I have- Chris Ritchey
Words- text- communication through a written language. Reading was always difficult for you as a little boy you were at the beginning of a local failing school system. A system that had to show progress, so although you had the extra classes , they passed you through as completing their grant driven reading programs. It wasn’t until the 5th grade we found out , when I had you privately tested, just how bad the problem was. Three years of catch-up and a change to private education.
Those years were hard for you , you thought you must be “stupid”. However, you also developed a skill of communicating “visually” . Eventually reading caught up with your ability to use your art to communicate. You found a niche for your talent at Lorain County Community College https://www.lorainccc.edu/
and on the advice of the college you transferred to Cleveland Institute of Art
artwork Chris Ritchey
It was at the students art show at Cleveland Institute of Art , I was looking at some of your designs etc. I noticed a couple of mistakes in the text. I spoke to the your instructor that evening about the mistakes in the text. He looked at me and said :
“that is not a problem , we can teach and correct spelling etc. what I can’t teach is what your son has, his ability , creativity and talent. I will give a an assignment to the group – “come up with three different advertising concepts on a given product/ client within a week” – Chris, will come back within two days with 10 entirely different takes. I can’t teach that……
Eventually you gained a position as Art Director for Wyse Advertising .
Apparently , according to your boss at the time, you were poised to do great things in advertising … we will never know…. but Wyse were wonderful to you during that terrible time of your illness.
I do remember that first year you worked for Wyse you were asked to do the ad for them in the annual “Torchlight” Membership Directory
The monthly AAF-Cleveland Portfolio features the latest in industry development and trends, association insights and updates, and achievements of local members. “Torchlight,” our annual membership directory, is an invaluable “Who’s Who” reference manual of members, agencies, and services in Cleveland advertising.
The directory was in your portfolio and the ad………. text, words …….. “scan of the full-page ad that appeared in the Torchlight”
Artwork Christopher Ritchey
But there aren’t any words that were so important as the last words you wrote to me – even with the spelling mistake…….I carry them with me every day
Mother’s Day is coming, once again tinged with tears and bitter-sweet ———– I love you…………I need to finish writing the book if I can find the words
April 3rd – Trilogy Trigger- Chris Ritchey
Chris Ritchey- CIA
This past month has been particularly difficult, losing my dear friend Paula to the obscenity that is cancer, the “hell is other people” neighbors with their form of obscenity invading what little space we have. It is what is called “life” for want of a description. As another departed friend used to say “everyone has a story” and yet another ” there is no laughter in hell”, but then again you would have to believe in a heaven if you believe in hell.
Easter was this past weekend , another holiday I hypocritically celebrate for the sake of loved ones and friends . I have pointed out my views and Easter/Eastre has been noted – another pagan holiday utilized, blended, absorbed and morphed for convenience sake of whatever was the popular faith at the time https://thatwoman.wordpress.com/2012/04/06/ahhhhhh-easter-eastre-resurrecting-memories-eggs-and-crabs/
To me all religion is another man’s myth dressed up for the masses of whatever century of which you happen to be a part.
Irony, not to be outdone this year, the weekend found Gavin’s 9th birthday and your Dad’s and Easter all falling together.
You Dad born on another Easter Sunday on the top of the kitchen table ( so the story goes) let alone being April Fool’s Day.
Triple play in memories flooded in- other Easters with Papa Teddy and Auntie Gladys coming down from Canada especially at Easter and Thanksgiving , they really were the closest thing to grandparents. Such love , such beautiful people. Your first Easter , you decided to crawl and Papa Teddy spent the whole time steering you away from the fireplace hearth, fascinated even then by flames.
Memories of you being taken to that “terrible to me now” church St. Mary’s Lorain https://www.parishesonline.com/find/st-mary-catholic-church-44052 by your godparents on Easter Sunday . Well…..up until the time you “shot the priest” with a pretend gun and something religious spilled as someone in the procession jumped and there was such a kafuffle apparently. I know you were never again taken to Easter Sunday services there.
To think that church would play such havoc in our lives bringing such anger and unkindness – due to you walking down that same aisle and the taking of any closure, denying our beliefs by your controlling “in law family”( Lombardi/ Vika and offspring) and the “bride” Angela Lombardi ( Ritchey) now Murphy
not to mention “their priest” Divis –
Sharing a laugh – but on whom?
There should have been overload in the confessional, one would think, although forgiveness is far from my heart. Ah! what meaning in this life today of a ‘mother’s curse” in days of myth and legend a powerful instrument met now with the word Karma??? Karma borrowed once more from an even older religion…. I wait ………
Gavin’s “birthday” or day of his birth – hoping against hope as you lay in that terrible Cleveland Clinic- the lab rat- being made to clinically die to “save you”. I had to leave you that night to be with your sister as a new life came into the world……….. torn once more………
Your Dad’s birthday – the years of playing pranks not just because it was April fools day but because your loved your jokes. The time you took out an ad in the paper selling the house . Yes! all memories , uninvited guests along with the ham, steaks, tulips and a missing space at the table.
And yet laughter and smiles, little boys and a girl looking for surprises, barely able to sit still as the grown-ups took forever to eat. Tales of other memories , other traditions , pastel eggs mixed in with camouflage eggs, a grandfather and his grandsons sharing a moment to remember. 
Yes all intertwined showing the colors and also the greyness of what we have become – I love you – we all do……..
Feb 3rd -Helpless- Chris Ritchey
Heart of Thorns- artwork Chris Ritchey
Another February , and the beginning of the scream , the weeks of feeling totally useless and helpless . Walking in two worlds – trying to remain calm, positive and supportive for the journey thrust upon your young life. All the while my chest collapsing, jaw clenching to stop the tears and terror I was feeling from showing. The weeks and months after you passed trying to stop from going mad, running from the “black dog” of Churchill fame.
The emotional incontinence – staying close to home – not wanting to drive incase the sight of a young man in black Ford 150 truck would split my reality. I learned how to hide, how to suppress the emotional nightmare with tricks of the grief-stricken. We, who have lost our son or our daughter learn lessons no one should have to learn.
The nights when the dying days visit – the mind tools kicking in to temper the ferocity of memory so sleep can come. Turning a corner , one would think, but like the damned cancer it is there lying quietly , building upon itself. I thought I was managing quite well in the last few months and then- not cancer- but once again wanting and trying to get your Nana through a situation caused by bureaucrats. Weeks and months of fighting , trying to make sense of a situation beyond my control . Holding on, trying to be the Loraine I once was …. A bureaucratic wall was thrown up
I couldn’t get through , your Nana’s physical and emotional well-being compromised by an officious, pseudo-listener “gatekeeper” . After months of dealing with her ilk and they, not knowing or caring how this situation was causing such distress to a 98-year-old woman- as the phone was hung up – and I sat stunned – bewildered not knowing where to turn next.
BFA project
Chris Ritchey
And then it happened – the trigger- those feelings of the dying days were unleashed , not in waves but with a flood- overwhelming logic – nothing could stop the torrent- hours and hours of raw emotion, tears that just wouldn’t cease, the sobs that wracked were back – brought forth from their hiding place. Worried faces of family , concern , the questions upon furrowed brows.
Then just as “anger ” at the cretins of your bride’s family kept me upright in those days of total despair and surrender… anger once again surged through the dark and made me strong enough to continue- to fight back against the ignorance – the “people” inflicting pain upon those I love.
Your Nana survived the bureaucrats, thanks to help from those that did and do listen . And I realized once more the wound has not healed- the scar is still only surface deep and it waits…… because there is nothing I can do – even in anger- to see you walk through a doorway once more , hear your voice laugh with you and enjoy you being you………
Jan 3rd- Relativity to Time – Chris Ritchey
Chris Ritchey CIA
Time and relativity – I admit the highest mark I ever received from Norman Niles- my Physics teacher was D minus! I hated Math and I detested Physics- loved Chemistry and History.
However ” Events that occur at the same time for one observer could occur at different times for another.” https://www.space.com/17661-theory-general-relativity.html
Black Holes I never understood – more a case of not wanting to be bothered- BUT and there is always a but I feel I am ( as well as probably many others of my kind) lost in time .
A mother who has lost her child – there are no words or labels for us – not a widow, an orphan, etc unless you consider “tethligons” (Sanskrit word which means ‘against the natural order’)which, for me ,conjures up some sort of terrible monster- but then losing your son or daughter makes you feel like you are in the world of monsters – caught , crunched between the teeth of the monster and then spat out – only to be caught again
Most of humanity live in a 3 dimensional world – and then again….
We can portray our reality as either a three-dimensional place where stuff happens over time,” said Massachusetts Institute of Technology physicist Max Tegmark, “or as a four-dimensional place where nothing happens [‘block universe’] — and if it really is the second picture, then change really is an illusion, because there’s nothing that’s changing; it’s all just there — past, present, future.
The diagnostic box- self- portrait Chris Ritchey
My universe, Christopher, since you have been taken away has left me in a world where I float, for the most part, between the time before, then and now- New Year’s Eves have come and gone but every day and night I am elsewhere lost in time, as it no longer registers or is linear, the time that has come in between observed only by others in the 3rd dimension . I wake never knowing the year…………………. my 4 dimensional world apart from the normal .
Struggling toward some knowledge of the “physics of it all” and once again a barely passing grade. There are glimpses of understanding but the are illusive , on the edge of conscience , just out of reach –
but they are there – if only my tired brain could grab them – the tools of science notwithstanding in their cold calculations .
I continue to love and exist in this dimension – nothing changes our love or missing of you……….except they grow in strength no matter the time ….
Tree of Love- Gabriel Miller- moonbeam and light 2017
A few weeks after my son passed, a good friend also felt that same terrible pain of losing her child. There isn’t much you can do or say after those initial weeks to those that have not felt what it is like to be absolutely “gutted” and whose world is no longer together. You are expected to get over it – move on- people can get impatient with your grief, you are a dreadful reminder that a loss of a child can happen to them . You have no outlet for your love that continues to grow. In the following May after Gabe’s passing from this world, Gabe’s father and mother planted a tiny tree ( supposedly a dwarf variety) in the area known as Settlers’ Watch.
Through the seasons the tree was tended with care and love ; the little tree grew . Every year Gabe’s mum and dad light the now the not so little tree- 2015 found it a bit of a stretch for his dad.
This year more than a stretch was needed
and night fell on a snowy Christmas
The little tree, no longer small – grown tall- fed with love and watered with tears shone through the darkness and cold reminding us of a little boy
a sweet child – the light of his mother and father’s very being – the love that is his alone -lights for just a little while the cold dark nights.
Gabriel Miller August 17th-2009- December 31st 2009
Photos Lisa Miller – Lorain 365
June 3rd – Coma – Chris Ritchey
Think I Am – Chris Ritchey
I used to love June -NOW another month that causes anguish to the soul- although life is bursting , skies blue, roses red I can’t abide the ‘happiness’- the June Brides make me cringe. I remember, the day you married and by doing so brought with it the eventual pain that was “gifted” to your family by those “people”
Lombardi (Vyka etc. )and Company
The “wedding anniversary” is also the day this year when the “Clinic” will “dispose of what was left of your life essence.
https://thatwoman.wordpress.com/2017/04/03/april-3rd-sample-of-life-chris-ritchey/
And here it was -the Clinic apparently had not “disposed of ” (their term) the sample upon your death as contracted . Now, I have to make the decision to call them re maintaining the samples – should I do nothing they will commence the disposal on what would ironically be your wedding anniversary !!!!
I have looked at the letter from those “other “doctors” telling me to make a legal decision otherwise they will dispose of….
I could not bring myself to ring them, or contact them – like an indecisive coward – I couldn’t bring anymore “finality ” into my being, I couldn’t make the decision, I couldn’t revisit the finality. I am not strong enough to face the reality of that. I know that by doing nothing the procedure of disposal will take place on what would have been your “wedding anniversary”. I wish I could dispose of those memories as easily but they come into being every June and with them the disgust I feel for the hypocrites of their religion. I am sickened by the controllers and “do overs”.
I wish things could have been different, that it was me that went on your last journey – not you. The memories of those last days and hours constantly being pushed away from conscious thought so I can “maintain some sort of balance”
Chris’ face book icon
Again the wondering and worrying of what was happening to you as you lay in that damned clinic like a lab rat on show. Could you hear as I sang to you, talked to you – tubes running everywhere. I asked for the Drs. to stop talking over you like a piece of meat that was cut off from “life”. I knew, as watched the stats, saw the rise in heart beats when they did that or when Sue Lombardi entered the room. (one of the reasons the head nurse expelled her as her presence aggravated you). Wanting “the invited others” by the Lombardis and co to leave the room as they did their collective death watch. I was frightened that if I did cause an issue it might effect or upset you and you unable to respond. Did you hear conversations? Did you know?
It was after you died and I was contacted by a young woman from the east coast in another June , she too was dying, going through the journey of hope with Hodgkin’s Lymphoma recurring , the trials, the chemo, the numerous hospital stays the days of dying.
Hi Lorraine, This is XXXXXXXX. I hope you still use this email. I found it in a post from Sept. Your blog is fantastic. Thank you so much for writing. It’s great to get a sense of the parents perspective. It’s a vision my parents like to keep from me. Take care.
We talked, via email, of how I felt and your dad as she was trying to help her parents and what they were feeling as they were being “brave”
She asked me if there was anything she could do to help me understand what you went through . I told her about your dad and how when he was intubated, after open heart surgery, in a induced coma and flooded with drugs as to how , although we could not see any movement , no squeezing of hands- he KNEW everything that we were saying and how awful it was to be trapped in his own mind.
http://www.jems.com/articles/print/volume-33/issue-1/patient-care/intubation-101-what-do-what-ca.html
In her case she too, numerous times had been intubated, drugged, paralized and comatose although she had managed to go through that so many times. Her Hodgkin’s came back 14 times before she eventually passed, she was still hopeful at the very end.
What she told me that email that June did help me some.
“your thoughts rush.. come in fragments .. you hear voices… see colors… , the movement is jarring yet you know you are not moving … you are between…. floating and yet tied… you struggle at times to surface as if drowning…
Assignment – Chris Ritchey-CIA
When you are brought back from the “sleep” you can’t really remember if you are waking from a bad dream , if the voices you heard are real and then you forget and move on to the next days. The doctors said I was dreaming that I couldn’t hear but I did tell one about his problem he was telling Nurse ( name given) , he was annoyed because someone had taken his parking place and he “was going to find out who”. He was very surprised.
She told me , for her, although what was happening was frightening she knew she was surrounded by her husband, mother , father and sister and they were keeping her safe. and that you drift in and out not knowing really what was or is real. ” it is all real your reality – to live with”
I have clung to her words , as a mother, hoping against hope that as you lay there those last days, never to come off that tube, you didn’t know the circus your dying was turning into – hoping that you thought you were dreaming and would awaken to sunlight not hearing the “dying words” – and you knew we loved you and still do
artwork Chris Ritchey
March 3rd -It’s OK- Chris Ritchey
Reaching out- art work- Christopher Ritchey
It’s OK – (okay) the origin of OK has many theories https://en.oxforddictionaries.com/explore/what-is-the-origin-of-the-word-ok
but basically translated – Ok (okay) means it is alright, it is fine or will be OK – will be alright – will be fine.
When something traumatic happens either in real life or in tv / movie land – invariably , along with the hug and the patting on the back http://www.saywhydoi.com/the-back-pat-why-do-we-pat-on-the-back/ comes the words – “it’s OK”
No it isn’t OK really …. but like shaking hands when you meet someone it is something those who try to comfort do.
I found myself yelling at the television as yet another traumatized mother – having disaster over take her family – and the well-meaning friend , the “it’s Ok” tripping from their mouth for want of something to say – throw away words ….
but I am here to tell you when you lose a son or daughter nothing is ever alright, fine or okay in your world ever again.
OK! well I maybe be making a mountain out of a molehill… and bitching about the human condition when we are at a loss for words and trying to be kind and give comfort but it cuts me to the quick when I see and hear those words spoken
The flawed Hand of the Healer by Chris Ritchey
AND it is not okay that my wonderful, talented, loving son with his whole life ahead of him- is nothing more than a memory- and in some cases not even that – whilst the dregs of mankind and other sons cause terror and destruction to the world’s children.
AND it is not OK that once again I am losing from my life a sweet, caring , selfless , sparkling wine of a woman to the obscenity of cancer- another family waiting and watching as she leaves us slowly. It is not OK that she is leaving whilst the cruel bitches of this world thrive………
It is NOT OK Chris that I am here and you are not…….. I love you
March 3, 2018 at 12:20 pm 1 comment