Fathers | That Woman's Weblog

David Eagleman is a neuroscientist, bestselling author, and Guggenheim Fellow. Dr. Eagleman’s areas of research include sensory substitution, time perception, vision, and synesthesia. He also studies the intersection of neuroscience with the legal system, and in that capacity he directs the non-profit Center for Science and Law. Eagleman is the writer and presenter of The Brain, an Emmy-nominated television series on PBS and BBC. He is the author of 8 books, including Livewired, The Runaway Species, The Brain, Incognito, and Wednesday is Indigo Blue. He is also the author of a widely adopted textbook on cognitive neuroscience, Brain and Behavior. His internationally bestselling book of literary fiction, SUM, has been translated into 32 languages https://profiles.stanford.edu/david-eagleman

David Eagleman https://eagleman.com in his book Sum states:

We actually die three times. We die the first time when our breath leaves our body. We die the second time when our loved ones return our body to the ground. And the third death, and final death, is a moment, sometime in the future, when our name is spoken for the last time.

As my son spent days dying so did I , every hour was sheer torture and the days following his final breath saw me dying inside, losing me, losing a grip on reality, not knowing where I was, what had happened.

All of a sudden I was back in my home, the hospital left behind, the home where Chris had grown up, reminders of him everywhere .

Misty , Chris’ dog. excited to see us after all these days away ran to greet us, ignorant at her master’s death, her happiness was almost crushing. I think someone must have let her out . And then we were alone , a mother and a father without their son.

I was so cold, shivering , I couldn’t stop shaking . My husband wandered the rooms , sitting , getting up sitting again, Lost!!! Finally he noticed I was shivering and shaking , he said

I will light a fire

and he went out the den door to get some firewood. Eventually, he came back with a rose , the last rose from the garden and put it in my hands, it too was cold. As he opened the fireplace doors to put in the kindling he let out the most awful sound, a wail , guttural cry and choking all combined, and fell to his knees . I couldn’t move to help him and Misty hearing this awful cry came to him and lay down nuzzling his body trying to get under him to get him up.

I truly thought he is choking on grief and there is nothing I can do , I can’t move.

I don’t know how long we stayed in that dark place , finally exhaustion overcame us I suppose. I really don’t remember but I too wandered about the house finally ending up in Chris’ old room, now decorated to hold guests and spied the little Harrods Bear he gave me when he returned from a soccer tournament in England. He had sat on his little perch for years dusted but ignored for the most part. I had thought of eventually giving him ( with his little England shirt) to my new grandson.

I picked up the little 10 inch soft cuddly bear and pressed him like a compress to my heart, trying to stop the pain that threatened to burst forth from me at any moment . I couldn’t put him down

. Somehow I was aware that in the morning we were expected to go to the funeral home to discuss arrangements.

Nikki had managed, much to Sue Lombardi’s annoyance, to have Chris’ body taken to the funeral home behind our house . The same funeral home where as a child he rode his bike in their parking lot, whose family he had known all his life, whose daughter baby sat him, wonderful caring people. He was just 300 feet away and yet not home , never coming home and I couldn’t reach him.

I couldn’t go to that funeral home meeting , I couldn’t even stand up for any length of time let alone walk. I never wanted to see the Lombardis ever again . I also knew that whatever I said they would be wanting to do the opposite , my husband was in no shape to deal with them, they who seemingly wanted this all “Done and Dusted”- over and done with a quick as possible .

In the end we stayed with the baby, Nikki, Jim and my mum and brother-in law walked over to the Funeral Home. I was right in my thinking Sue Lombardi wanted a “big show….

I was petrified that they would ignore our beliefs and put Chris in one of the silk lined, Cadillac of caskets with chrome handles to be buried , to rot away for decades, after being drained of his blood,( more damned needles), things stuck into orifices’ to stop leaks, making him look presentable for a receiving line of grief and some curiosity, coffee and cakes in the anteroom. I couldn’t bear the thought of my beautiful son turning into anaerobic sludge

An airtight coffin, for example, may foster decomposition by anaerobic bacteria, which results in a putrefied liquification of the body; all putrefied tissue would remain inside the container, only to be exposed in the event of an exhumation

It is the American way I know and that is fine if that is your culture and of your beliefs

but it is and was NOT our way and Chris was of our culture and beliefs not the Lombardis and he hated the rituals at the cemetery they did for the nephew and cousin. His name was Ritchey not Lombardi.

I begged my son-in-law to speak for Chris . You see I knew he and Chris had discussed things when they drove back to Houston. He wanted to be cremated as it is our way and his…..

My understanding was that the Lombardis had the floor and Sue Lombardi was against cremation ..

But if there is no casket what are we going to decorate

And there you have it my wonderful son the star of her funeral celebration…………

The wedding casket……… for that all important money was all I could think of…… as I was told those words …..

September 3, 2022 at 11:44 am 2 comments

July 3rd- No Limits- Chapter 30- Chris Ritchey

NO LIMITS

Forward: https://thatwoman.wordpress.com/2020/01/02/jan-3rd-no-limits-the-forward-chris-ritchey/

Chapter One :https://thatwoman.wordpress.com/2020/02/03/feb-3rd-no-limits-chapter-1-chris-ritchey/

Chapter Two:https://thatwoman.wordpress.com/2020/03/03/march-3rd-no-limits-

Chapter Three: https://thatwoman.wordpress.com/2020/04/03/april-3rd-no-limits-chapt-3-chris-ritchey/

Chapter Four: https://thatwoman.wordpress.com/2020/05/03/no-limits-chapter-4-chris-ritchey/

Chapter Five: https://thatwoman.wordpress.com/2020/06/03/june-3rd-no-limits-chapter-5-chris-ritchey/

Chapter Six: https://thatwoman.wordpress.com/2020/07/03/july-3rd-no-limits-chapter-6-chris-ritchey/

Chapter Seven: https://thatwoman.wordpress.com/2020/08/03/august-3rd-no-limits-chapter7-chris-ritchey/

Chapter Eight: https://thatwoman.wordpress.com/2020/09/03/sept-3rd-no-limits-chapter-8-chris-ritchey/

Chapter Nine: https://thatwoman.wordpress.com/2020/10/03/oct-3rd-no-limits-chapter-9-chris-ritchey/

Chapter Ten: NO LIMITS- Nov 3rd- Chapter 10- Chris Ritchey | That Woman’s Weblog (wordpress.com)

Chapter Eleven: NO LIMITS-Dec. 3rd- Chris Ritchey- Chapter 11 | That Woman’s Weblog (wordpress.com)

Chapter Twelve: NO LIMITS-Jan 3rd- Chris Ritchey- Chapter 12 | That Woman’s Weblog (wordpress.com)

Chapter Thirteen : NO LIMITS- FEB 3rd- Chris Ritchey- Chapter 13 | That Woman’s Weblog (wordpress.com)

Chapter Fourteen: March 3rd, NO LIMITS, Chapter 14- Chris Ritchey | That Woman’s Weblog (wordpress.com)

Chapter Fifteen: April 3rd- No Limits- Chapter 15- Chris Ritchey | That Woman’s Weblog (wordpress.com)

Chapter Sixteen: May 3rd – No Limits- Chapter 16- Chris Ritchey | That Woman’s Weblog (wordpress.com)

Chapter Seventeen: June 3rd-No Limits-Chris Ritchey-Chapter 17 | That Woman’s Weblog (wordpress.com)

Chapter Eighteen: July 3rd – NO LIMITS- Chapter 18-Chris Ritchey | That Woman’s Weblog (wordpress.com)

Chapter Nineteen: https://thatwoman.wordpress.com/2021/08/03/august-3rd-no-limits-chapter-19-chris-ritchey/

Chapter Twenty: https://thatwoman.wordpress.com/2021/09/03/september-3rd-no-limits-chapter20-chris-ritchey/

Chapter Twenty One: https://thatwoman.wordpress.com/2021/10/03/october-3rd-no-limits-chapter-21-chris-ritchey/

Chapter Twenty Two : https://thatwoman.wordpress.com/2021/11/03/nov-3rd-no-limits-chapter-22-chris-ritchey/

Chapter Twenty Three: https://thatwoman.wordpress.com/2021/12/03/dec-3rd-no-limits-chapt-23-chris-ritchey/

Chapter Twenty Four: https://thatwoman.wordpress.com/2022/01/03/january-3rd-no-limits-chapter-24-chris-ritchey/

Chapter Twenty Five: https://thatwoman.wordpress.com/2022/02/03/february-3rd-no-limits-chapter-25-chris-ritchey/

Chapter Twenty Six https://thatwoman.wordpress.com/2022/03/03/march-3rd-no-limits-chapter-26-chris-ritchey/

Chapter Twenty Seven https://thatwoman.wordpress.com/2022/04/03/april-3rd-no-limits-chapter-27-chris-ritchey/

Chapter Twenty Eight: https://thatwoman.wordpress.com/2022/05/03/may-3rd-no-limits-chapter-28-chris-ritchey/

Chapter Twenty Nine: https://thatwoman.wordpress.com/2022/06/03/june-3rd-no-limits-chapter-29-chris-ritchey/

OMEGA

Any words I have left in me are inadequate to describe the utter denial, disbelief , unreality I felt on that last morning of December 3rd. As I walked out of the conference room, the words from the “Doctor” stating we would have to waIt until the paralyzing drugs wore off before they could remove Chris from life support, seemed hollow , without emotion and echoed in my brain, I felt not a part of my own body . I was elsewhere wanting to wake up to a different reality . This can’t be our reality!

I wanted to run away , leave this place of clinical formality, take my son , I saw the relief on the faces of the Lombardi Clan as I agreed to removing Chris from the machines. I agreed with the impossible hope that maybe , he would prove them wrong but also because my son had asked me ”

“Mum don’t ever let me end up being pathetic”

I never wanted to look on the faces of Tim, Sue and Angela ever again. In my mind they were no longer part of our lives. Little did I know they weren’t done with Chris and his family yet, their controlling behaviour would reach out even through the death of Chris , in order to have their own way.

We went into Chris room, Nikki was there in those damned pajamas , talking to him.

“Chris you came home to see me anytime, I love you……”

I wasn’t understanding did she not realize he wouldn’t be ever coming home again?

A nurse ushered out of the room into the room next door, where just a few hours before the patient had caused all the alarm in the night had apparently died. We were told to wait as we couldnt be in the room whilst they “unhooked” Chris .

The room was bare, the bed and machines cleared away. I was in there with Sue Lombardi, Angela and Tim.

I wondered where my husband was , Nikki , Jim???Why was I in that horrible room with these people. I was about to leave when the tellvision, fixed to the wall came on . I don’t know the program but it was country music ….. I couldn’t stand it , it was as if someone was playing some macabre joke.

I grabbed the channel changer from the floor , but no matter what I did I couldn’t get rid of it. Finally Tim Lombardi left Sue’s side , she was sitting on the floor against the wall, but all he managed to do was get it flipping through channels. It ended up on a scene from . The joke being in the family that I was Marie Barone and my favourite was Chris, as hers was Raymond. It was the scene where they were together on a cruise ship.

Angela took the channel changer from her father as Sue said looking at the scene on the television

“OH it is Chris”

I looked at her and thought

stupid woman , why doesn’t she just shut up!!!!

It was then the nurse put her head through the door and said they were ready for us.

Angela, her mother and father went to the right hand side of the bed where there weren’t any machines, I could only squeeze into the other side by the wall and the now quiet ventilator.

I looked at my sons face, wiped the spittle from his mouth , the nurses has closed his eyes . I rambled on, talking to him about being proud of him , how hard he fought and that he should rest now. I don’t know exactly what I was talking about because all I wanted to do was hold him and scream

NO!!!!!!! Stop this !!! This can’t happen

Instead, I watched the colour drain slowly from his face , he had died earlier I knew it…… there was no gasping for breath or convulsion. I looked up into Tim Lombardi’s face who was nodding yes….. Sue left the room Someone took me away from the bedside , I think it was one of Chris’ nurses . There was a wheelchair waiting for me. I had absolutely no idea where I was ,what was happening .

I was taken back to hotel room and we sat. Nobody talked finally we started packing up our belongings and left. Nikki was on the phone apparently to Tim

” arrangements for the funeral home had already been made for the following morning at 10 a.m”

In my maelstrom of thoughts I didn’t understand why Chris’ father hadn’t been there when his son died. I knew Nikki couldn’t face it and was, I thought, being taken care of by Jim.

I understood that but I didn’t understand why I had to look into that weasle little face of Tim Lombardi as my son gave up his being.

It was many weeks later I found out when I finally asked my husband

Where were you , why weren’t YOU with me and Chris?

And then it came to light. He had made sure Nikki was with Jim and then followed us into the room but Sue Lombardi closed the door in his face and he didn’t know what to do , he didn’t want to make a scene so he stood outside the door and looked through the window as his son died.

artwork Chris Ritchey

I would like to say that that was the last cruel and thoughtless act of the Lombardis but there was so much more to come. However it was nearly a year after Chris died that Nikki finally told me what had happened in that ICU room

DEC. 4th- How Cold is Cold -Lombardi?

I couldn’t think that my beautiful son was going to die- I truly still thought he will show them he will come out of this – I never gave up hope and none of us said to goodbye-

My husband when he was in a coma told us that he had heard every word that people spoke but he couldn’t let us know. So we all acted on the fact that Chris too, was aware and were so careful not to say or do anything that would distress him- trapped as he was…….

Fashionistas Sue Lombardi and Angela (Lombardi) ritchey( Now Murphy.

This apparently was not consideration given by the Lombardis as Sue Lombardi and Angela joined Nikki in the ICU room. Nikki was putting cool cloths on Chris’ brow , holding his hand and talking to him that everything was Ok and she wouldn’t leave him-

However that was not the reason apparently the Lombardi women were in the room, not for them comfort and saying farewell NO they had other reasons for seeing Chris

they were choosing his “laying out clothes”

So before my son was dead, two minutes after Nikki had learned they were taking Chris off the vent – Angela Ritchey(Murphy) DO and Sue stood over my dying son having already decided without even the courtesy of discussing with Chris’ family the Gluvna Funeral Home would handle the arrangements-

Sue Lombardi

We will lay him out in his black pants, blue shirt and silver tie

Angela –

Yes, but no suit jacket Chris wouldn’t like that

Nikki couldn’t believe what she was hearing her brother lying there still breathing, still warm, his hand still in hers and they are discussing “funeral fashion!” –

Nikki told me that day a year later between her sobs –

Mum who are these people? how does a “bride” stand there as her husband is dying and calmly decide what fashion statement he will make in his casket- I was standing there trying to memorize every piece of his face, his hands everything about him knowing I would never see him again and they are discussing what to dress him in and he wasn’t even dead. I just cannot believe they were so cool and calm and cold when Angela said
“Yes but no jacket ” it was in the same tone as saying

I will have honey mustard sauce with the nuggets…….

Nikki turned to them and quietly said through her teeth so that Chris didn’t hear

NO! you are not laying my brother out, there will be no casket he is to be cremated, he isn’t to go to Gluvna but to Boyers – I will fight you on this – he is to go home

Sue Lombardi:

but this will be a huge funeral and what would we do about the parking….

I still find this scenario incredible What kind of people are more concerned in the “funeral fashion statement” of their son-in-law and new husband will wear and where Sue would have people park as he is clinging to life.

Who calmly looks at their dying groom and is concerned about jacket or no jacket, what kind of people are these ?- How could you even discuss this as a sister holds her dying brothers hand and tries to give him comfort?

How could Angela even contemplate that next move? I just know that anyone who loved my son deeply would not be thinking of “dressing him in his coffin” in their last moments together !
I didn’t know any of this at the time and it is probably just as well because as traumatic as the next few days were they would have been worse as my anger would have risen to a dreadful climax.

– I am even more filled with disgust that someone who was so full of life, love and caring has left this life and those that should have mourned his loss stood over him – as he lay dying deciding how to dress him in a casket to look good!

The disgust I felt at such pious hypocrites is indescribable – to think my son was subject to this in his last moments “what would he be wearing as they decorated him in the casket “ filled me with a gut filled sickness, it is beyond my comprehension as to what he did to deserve such coldness?

To be continued ……..

July 3, 2022 at 1:51 pm 2 comments

July 3rd- continuing – Chris Ritchey

I have written about you every month on the 3rd of the month as my memorial to you – your life and your art work. A few months ago I wrote these lines in the post https://thatwoman.wordpress.com/2019/04/03/april-3rd-forgotten-chris-ritchey/

““They say you die three times – once when your body fails you – again when you are buried ( funeral) and again when you are forgotten”.

Death of the body and death of memory. When you are buried and that headstone in place is a remembrance of sorts but there’s the rub how long will that headstone last?

Most of us believe that record of our being in the places designed for such – as cemeteries and crematoriums will last forever, not so especially with the way things happen with cemeteries in recent years. This Blog https://lisanneharris.com/2013/05/12/sadly-utterly-abandoned-churches-cemeteries/ Ms. Harris has a plethora of photos from around the world of these sad places. The forlorn graves sinking into oblivion once held the tears and heartbreak of mourners who grieved over their loved ones. Even in this old neighborhood the citizens of Lorain in the past plowed under and buried the little Charleston Village Cemetery

https://thatwoman.wordpress.com/tag/pioneer-cemetery-lorain/

I read once , here you can’t reclaim or take out graves until 100 years after the last burial. But that is another law that is circumvented. I know it happened to your Great Grandmother and Great Grandfather and Great- Great Grandmother, the site was moved (although other family members wouldn’t have it) but I remember visiting those graves in a totally different area of the cemetery and one was missing altogether.

You are not dead because our love of you is alive and you are in our thoughts and dreams daily.

Your Nana was not afraid to die, she was actually welcoming her demise -99 years is longer than most get on this earth.

She had out- lived her brothers , sisters, friends of her youth. She was ready but as she sipped her tea one day near the ending she look at me over the rim of the cup and said

“you won’t forget me will you, Nikki and the children will remember they had their Nana”.

There is no headstone in a “family plot” because that is not what she wanted. Her ashes will hopefully one day make it back to “her England” , time and life permitting.

Today, I received a notification from the Crematorium in England

St Marylebone Crematorium – Memorials

about your Grandfather. What a mess that was when he passed , he had gone off with someone else – had a new family – although he clung still to his old one. Due to the fact he never remarried, I was still his next of kin, the arrangements were left to me although his “woman” did orchestrate some aspects.

Then a few years on, since Nana and I were home, we went to the crematorium and I asked the office where my fathers ashes were interred. Imagine my guilt when I found out no-one had ever claimed them! I had thought his fancy bit would have, she obviously was done with him after he died. I was told his ashes were scattered in a part of the crematorium I was shown the spot where his ashes had been scattered and was told

“I could have a “tablet” positioned on the walls surrounding the Willow Garden, and are ideal for those who wish to mark the position of a loved one whose ashes have been scattered below.”

It was decided, only Nana would have nothing to do with it , didn’t want her name mentioned and went and sat in the rose garden. This is truly a beautiful place. I realized, although his work of a cross ( commissioned by the Governor of Gibraltar) hopefully still adorns the altar in the Naval Chapel there ,

there was not a permanent dedication ( well as permanent as can be in this life) but one day even that small reminder will be taken from the wall

Anyway I purchased a “tablet: and every 10 years I receive an invoice to renew the dedication, a few hundred pounds. No-one goes to the crematorium anymore to pay their respects, I am not sure anyone other than I ever did but I paid this invoice today because his name is there , the fact he lived and died on those dates is still there and he is not forgotten and he did live and he loved me and I , him

My Dad and I happier times

Oh his great grandson has the look of him but only I and a photograph of old realize that :

And that is why I write about you month after month for as long as I can so you know you aren’t forgotten and that you lived…….. and are still loved with every breath in my body………..

Breath of Life – Celtic Knot – Chris Ritchey

July 3, 2019 at 11:25 am 1 comment

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……..

April 3, 2018 at 11:29 am 1 comment

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

December 31, 2017 at 2:13 pm 4 comments

The Ghost in the Pond- continued-2015

A little over three months after my son’s death I wrote of his last Mother’s Day present to me – A small Ghost Koi
https://thatwoman.wordpress.com/2010/03/19/the-ghost-in-the-pond/

I was scared to look closer , maybe it was one of the pale goldfish , we have a couple. I couldn’t bring myself to go to the pond for a better look. I can still see my son kneeling by the pond and surreptitiously slipping in that Koi . Chris would check on the Koi every time he came home , he would ask in the hospital
“How’s the Ghost has it given up the ghost yet?”

I had told myself last summer I would look up how to keep this fish over the winter. Would I have to set up an aquarium for it?
I berated Chris for giving me that hassle and he just grinned at me again.

I got my courage up and took a deep breath and went to the pond. Yes the Ghost Koi had survived and slides silently among the gold and the dark water .

My Mother’s Day present survived and once again I saw in my mind my son’s grin

Every Spring since then I have waited for the ice and snow to melt – holding onto the hope the Koi will be there .
2011- https://thatwoman.wordpress.com/2011/03/19/ghost-in-the-pond-deux/
https://thatwoman.wordpress.com/2011/10/17/the-ghost-in-the-pond-continues/
https://thatwoman.wordpress.com/2012/05/12/mothers-day-2012-gifts-and-ghosts-a-fishy-story/
https://thatwoman.wordpress.com/2014/05/10/a-ghost-of-remembrance-mothers-day/
The disaster of taking down the Willow tree and changing the pond habitat .

The terrible cold of the winter before this when the waterfalls cracked and a temporary pipe was added to keep the water flowing in order to keep the fish alive during the bleak winter months.

This year Chris’ Dad winterized the pond once more. He insulated and wrapped the pipe, the pump and added another back up. When everything, including Niagara Falls, froze the little pond was open. His design worked , even Shadow could not be party to its demolition.

The birds that stayed, the animals wild and domestic all flocked to my little water source in order to drink and bathe. Still, I worried about the Ghost – he has become rather large- the biggest fish in the pond and will have called the pond home for 6 years.

Finally this weekend saw the end to ice , snow and frozen ground- a splash of gold and silver as the fish returned to the surface to feed and bask in sunshine – and there he was larger than ever- the reminder that love given freely that Mother’s Day reminds the world the Ghost existed and exists…….

April 12, 2015 at 5:29 pm 4 comments

Kink (s) in Father’s Day- Best of British! Pt. One

It has been week of homesickness, not only for the country of my birth- England, but for my traditional values and a culture that still remain such an integral part of who I am. My cousin, has been visiting the old days, the family stories pulled out again , and laughter- something that I have not had too much of since losing my son.

I feel trapped by the values of others, I feel trapped by the thinking of the majority or those that have the power of the rules. It amazes me sometimes how this my new “hometown” has , by the sheer majority of religious beliefs and ethnic values” so differing for my own, has caused such unhappiness to this family.
https://thatwoman.wordpress.com/2011/01/27/bishop-lennon-due-respect-beliefs-the-dead-and-calvary-cemetery-lorain/

Of course, I am talking about the Italian/ Polish religious community headed by Father Divis ( read Roman Catholic of St. Mary’s Lorain ) and we can do whatever we wish to do because thinking of the Lombardi Vyka Clan ( and now the Angela Murphy) control.

My son’s remains trapped in their toxic ground – without benefit of family . Of course Angela Lombardi Ritchey Murphy http://my.clevelandclinic.org/staff_directory/staff_display.aspx?DoctorID=16147
has moved on – dumped the possessions( that were not of any monetary value) and art work of my son– as soon as she could – after our Chris’s death but held onto those ashes. Why? she was done with Chris after the 2nd stem cell transplant failed- the show -put on was good for the “community” and they did it well! But never the less it was a show – Does she still require that “grave” place for the depositing of vodka , beer cans, cake and balloons?

I am amazed at the thinking – how does a woman profess to be a healer and turn around with such coldness and callousness of control as to deny a father his son in the darkest hour of any parent’s life?

I would ask any father, any mother reading this to look at your son or your daughter, imagine the horror of helplessly standing by watching them fight for each breath , nursing them every day of those last months of life, watching them die , having information kept from you by the “in law family, helpless and then have your flesh and blood and the last vestige of your child taken without your input or any consideration as to your wishes. Look at your son or daughter , try to imagine the pain and grief at losing them and you tell me tell me what these people did was right–
https://thatwoman.wordpress.com/2010/12/04/dec-4th-how-cold-is-cold-lombardi/

to put your son in a cemetery of their faith without you even being told they were doing so- and now of course “their moving on” Sue Lombardi , Tim Lombardi now mother and father in law to another Chris ( Murphy) – the do over wedding –
https://thatwoman.wordpress.com/2014/04/26/the-bliss-of-a-wedding-not-for-me-ritchey-murphy/

wedding bells and black hearts

and all is forgotten but as long as my son remains in that place of disrespect- I will not forget.

Fathers Day–
https://thatwoman.wordpress.com/2011/06/19/fathers-day-2011-time-passes/

We tip toe around the edges of Fathers Day- whilst his daughter tries so hard to be both of his children- the fact her brother is no longer here to share the breakfast at McDonald’s ( a tradition started when they were both little) . There is always the reminder Chris –

There is a tenaciousness being British- we don’t as a true Brit ever give up- I am not sure that is a good trait- so much easier to go with the flow- give in to the majority of put it away, move on, forget it, nothing we can do apathy , why try you are in the minority, thinking that pervades this community. But apart from being British I am also a mother and I carry my son in my heart and soul and his DNA in my body! Emotionally and physically he is with me still and always will be.

The waste of trying to make a difference lost on the “altars” of those who have the power.
So another Fathers Day- another reminder of wonder at the children given life- and another reminder of a death and a cruelty given to a Father who loved unconditionally.

To be continued

June 15, 2014 at 3:43 pm 4 comments

March 3rd- feeling the energy- Chris Ritchey

The domain in the garden past the pond

is a place I don’t frequent- it was and is your father’s “area’ and like his basement not a place I care to go or for which to take responsibility. The Weeping Willow hid a lot of his sins- but that too had to go last spring.

I still kept to my end of the garden and closed my eyes to the time it was taking to get the garden back into some sort of order. The truth be told I no longer had the “energy to fight the blight” that is the male idea of “need.

But one day , late last summer , I could stand it no longer and I had to do “something’ to tidy up. I moved the wrought iron trellis which had been leaning up against the garden wall. I positioned the trellis by the side of the garage over the curve in the pathway by the boat. Hopefully this would hide the “boat” from my view, a job the Willow did so well. I took the grape vines that were in abundance and tied them up on to the trellis. Then, as I precariously stood upon the step-ladder, I turned toward the garage to tie in the next side of the trellis. My eyes became fixed , not really taking in what I was seeing – they saw where you had left your name in paint on the garage wall.

Unexpected, as it was, the effect was instantaneous I felt my knees buckle , my breath catch, and those eyes that have cried so many days and nights filled once more with tears. I was transported back from the present once again, in the memory of my mind, to another place and time where once again we walked, talked, hoped and waited in vain for a cure ………..no work of art ever touched me so profoundly as that signature .

Oh! the explanation is simple enough you were , that spring , helping your father to paint the side of the garage – but everything went wrong – cancer and chemo put paid to painting but not before you had taken a brush and used your energy to write your name in the old paintwork.

Your father told me that he couldn’t bring himself to paint over your name so there it has stayed these many , many months, unbeknownst to me, as I never venture past the pond if I can help it. .

I can still see the energy you used in the writing of your name , the pressure of the brush to wood, the adding of paint to the brush as you proclaimed “you were here at that time” .

Not being an artist or an art critic, I was always a little perplexed when I would hear ” the energy of the brushwork”- but here it was – not a Van Gogh or even a Boccioni http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Umberto_Boccioni
or Julia Watkins https://www.facebook.com/pages/Energy-Artist-Julia-Watkins/69027658560

Chris Ritchey

Just a young man on a warm spring day leaving his mark on the garage before he painted over it -something that never happened. Yet, seeing your name, left there these many months brought home once more how I much I still love you , a love that grows and doesn’t diminish , miss you, your laughter and your energy

My heart is in pieces and I miss you more than life itself………. and yes it is “Hard” harder than I ever thought possible to bear.

Artwork Chris Ritchey

March 3, 2014 at 12:00 pm 4 comments

Gabriel Miller- a light still reaches into the darkness

Gabriel’s Last Day by his mother- Lisa Miller

http://bustershouse.wordpress.com/2013/12/31/gabriels-last-day/

This post from Lisa is honestly and terribly beautiful in its torment and shows a mother’s love for her child- and how those that grieve try to walk upright- her last two paragraphs are ones that every mother who has lost has experienced …

As I walked through the automatic doors of the CICU [cardiac intensive care unit] for the last time, the hallway appeared to stretch itself out before me, becoming endless. I stood up a little straighter and set out to make that endless walk through the hospital and across the street to the safety of our room without completely losing it in front of everyone along the way. Little did I know then what good practice that was going be for my new future.

* * * *
It has taken me four years to tell you the story of Gabriel’s last day. I remember every moment of his final two weeks in the hospital – and especially his death – as if it just happened. His death literally took my words away and society reinforced my silence as a condition of being allowed into the land of the living. After all, the grieving are so much easier to deal with when they keep their sorrow to themselves. 😕

I was reminded of that by a relative on Christmas Day this year. His boisterous “Merry Christmas!” greeting to me was met with as much of a smile as I could muster and I said “Something like that. Thanks, same to you.” He quickly responded “Well, this is a happy holiday for everyone else.” I sarcastically thanked him for that friendly reminder and went on to endure being a spectator to the festivities (again) and being reminded at every turn who was missing (still). Merry Christmas and Happy New Year indeed. 😐

2013

2012

https://thatwoman.wordpress.com/2012/12/30/gabriel-miller-a-child-of-light-remembering-the-smile/

Gabriel’s smile was bestowed for a just a briefness of time , but it remains in the hearts of his mummy and daddy . They, in turn, share with us a small smile sparkling in the darkness, given to those that pass a certain spot where a tiny tree brings light for just a little …… remembering the child of light …………

https://thatwoman.wordpress.com/2012/12/30/gabriel-miller-a-child-of-light-remembering-the-smile/

2011

https://thatwoman.wordpress.com/2011/12/31/gabriel-miller-the-missing-moonbeam-2011/

As this year passes once more it is a reminder there is a missing moonbeam, whose silvery light is lost to our world but the spark that flared into a flame of love brighter than any ray of the sun continues to burn in the hearts of those that loved their moon beam and basked in the light of his smile

2010

https://thatwoman.wordpress.com/2010/12/31/a-year-passes/

Moonbeams – Chris Ritchey

December 31st with song, laughter,food, fireworks and noise makers they will not notice a small light is no longer shining this year.

But in a home in Lorain, a mother and father dread this New Years Eve, they will not celebrate because all the fireworks, lights in the sky cannot make up for the “light they lost” – their precious moonbeam -who shone so brightly for just a little while and radiated such love and truth as to shame the dark.

December 30, 2013 at 11:08 pm 3 comments

The Memorial Project-Results- Chris Ritchey Pt 5

Part One https://thatwoman.wordpress.com/2013/12/03/december-3rd-memorial-chris-ritchey/

Part Two https://thatwoman.wordpress.com/2013/12/09/the-memorial-project-why-chris-ritchey-pt-2/

Part Three https://thatwoman.wordpress.com/2013/12/13/the-memorial-project-the-interview-chris-ritchey-pt-3/

Part Four https://thatwoman.wordpress.com/2013/12/17/the-memorial-project-interview-cont-chris-ritchey-pt-4/

December 19th- As I type this morning, once again watching the sunrise over the twinkling lights of the neighbors Christmas decorations lighting the now bare branches of the cherry tree, I am reminded of another December 19th. The day the Lombardis , your bride Angela http://my.clevelandclinic.org/staff_directory/staff_display.aspx?DoctorID=16147 , the Vykas , Gonzales, Zaworskis and Gotts and Father Divas took you my son, to their “family plot” without your kith or kin .

https://thatwoman.wordpress.com/2009/12/14/something-wicked-our-way-came/

https://thatwoman.wordpress.com/2009/12/28/because-i-was-gutless/

It was an act ( in my view) of pure selfishness,vindictiveness and without pity.
“Your name was RITCHEY , NOT – Lombardi , Vyka , Gonzales, Gott or Zaworski . You were taken to their faith and their closure, denying your family even the “time of your interment in their selfishness.”

As someone said

“it is like Chris’ family didn’t exist”

https://thatwoman.wordpress.com/2012/06/07/a-memory-of-vipers-chris-ritchey/

That day, just a week before the celebration of Christmas, a day of celebration, where they dress in their finest, attend a church and profess to their God they are worthy of taking Him and His Son into their hearts. They celebrate the “Mother of their Church ”

http://www.morningjournal.com/general-news/20091221/mary-mother-of-god-begins-anew but have taken– seemingly without a thought to the consequences of such an act, of inflicting further pain to another mother.

The poster accompanying the project

The Memorialization by Bereaved Parents Project– gave me a chance not only to share my son, his story and to realize I was not alone – there were others who walked the path who needed……….

Memorialization by Bereaved Parents
Kara Thieleman
The death of a child is a devastating loss that has a profound impact on parents and a families . Prior research has found that maintaining /continuing bonds with deceased children is common and can be very beneficial.

This project sought to understand how bereaved parents maintain such bonds through memorializing their children as well as the meaning they find in doing so. Participants were asked to provide photographs that depict how they memorialize and remember their children thus allowing participants to provide the visual images of their choosing that capture unique aspects of their experience……….

Their children died from a variety of causes , including illness, accident , murder and unknown causes. All of the participants are female and are diverse in terms of age ethnicity, religious/spiritual beliefs and sexual orientation.

These mothers , including myself , all have the need to remember “out loud” in their own way; whether it is leaving tokens of love at the last tangible place on this earth that holds their child, a special place to go and reflect or call out to the silence “WHY” ?

The need to have their son or daughter remembered for a life that was lived, no matter how brief . The need to have a repository , if you will, of the love that was for that son or daughter that was theirs alone. A love that still flows from a mothers heart , seeking the child for which it was meant.

When the Lombardis, your bride and the “creatures of control” took you away into that place of deceit and cowardice – for not one had the strength to speak of “pity” for your family. The death of human kindness on that day led to the birth of my own memorial. A place where I revisit your life, your story and I can cry my tears and shout WHY? to the morning sunrise. I can remember you and let your art speak ….

I have only words to describe , it is a terrible thing to live out your life without the laughter of your son , incommunicable to those who have not felt this grief’s slashing ferocity. Words are inadequate………

Dr. Joanne Cacciatore http://www.drjoanne.blogspot.com/ and of the MISS Foundation
http://www.missfoundation.org/
spoke recently of a woman Käthe Kollwitz (July 8, 1867 – April 22, 1945)

“I will never forget the first moment I saw her work. I felt something inside me stir. It was a connection to the abyss, to the darkness of grief- I knew Kollwitz had seen something that I had also seen. I felt she, too, was a keeper of the dark secrets.

Kollwitz birthed art of the soul, from the depths of traumatic grief so frightening that few dare allow themselves to really see it. During WWII, her art (perceived accurately as anti-war) was banned by Hitler. She witnessed, first hand, the horrors of war and lost far too much because of it: Her grandson, named Peter after her dead son, lost his life in war too.

Look at her work. I mean, really look at it. ”

Woman with dead child 1903 Kathe Kollwitz

ED NOTE: Kollwitz’s work can be raw and full of truths it can scream the most primordial scream and does

She wrote of her son:

darkness of grief Kathe Kollwitz

[I] made a drawing: the mother letting her dead son
slide into her arms.

I might make a hundred such drawings
and yet I do not get any closer to him.

I am seeking him.
As if I had to find him in my work.

And yet everything I do is so childishly foolish and inadequate…

I am shattered, weakened, drained by tears…
Yet new flowers have grown up which would not have grown
without the tears shed this year.

The Parents ( memorial) Kathe Kollwitz 1932

Men do not know the souls of one another.
Only the galley slaves know one another,
who side by side are chained, and gasp for breath.

December 19, 2013 at 4:31 pm Leave a comment

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Posts filed under ‘Fathers’

September 3rd- Chapter 32- NO LIMITS-Chris Ritchey

July 3rd- No Limits- Chapter 30- Chris Ritchey

July 3rd- continuing – Chris Ritchey

April 3rd – Trilogy Trigger- Chris Ritchey

Tree of Love- Gabriel Miller- moonbeam and light 2017

The Ghost in the Pond- continued-2015

Kink (s) in Father’s Day- Best of British! Pt. One

March 3rd- feeling the energy- Chris Ritchey

Gabriel Miller- a light still reaches into the darkness

The Memorial Project-Results- Chris Ritchey Pt 5

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