Posts filed under ‘religion’
“If I could work my will, every idiot who goes about with ‘Merry Christmas’ on his lips should be boiled with his own pudding and buried with a stake of holly through his heart.” Charles Dickens – A Christmas Carol
The lights decorating the houses blurred through tears, were wished away. No Christmas cards were opened as they lay on the mat intermingled with sympathy cards- my mother became the keeper of the cards . I wished the merriment over, I wished it all to go away. I had lost hope , my son, my belief in kindness in death (thanks to Tim and Sue Lombardi, their daughter and their “priest” , their “will of control”- that wickedness not forgiven.
What faith I had was taken with his Chris’ last breath and as I saw the faces of his church- going holier than thou in-laws , the look on his brides face, no grief there just a relief there would be no long term dealing with his illness. The haunting of a Christmas past not forgotten as lights twinkle and candles burn.
And yet Christmas comes again and again and once more I am caught up in its intrusiveness . I still “visit” Christmas – how do you deny the children, my grand children, their excitement, their belief in goodness , the love for all the trappings- they refuse to “tone down” Christmas. Christmas for them explodes with laughter and happiness- as it should be.
Christmas has been “managed in this house” – no tree adorns the living room, my mother sends and receives cards decorated her Christmas grotto in her little living room. Gone are the Christmas Past, Christmas present but the world of children’s wonder is visited.
Still the cry – Happy Holidays, Merry Christmas, fought over as to the “greeting- the dogma of belief that your “holiday of religion” is the “real one” and Christian or not you should be caught up in Merry Christmas continues to wreak havoc around the world. .
I shop for little ones on line- and venture out only to get my daughter her special present , the children will receive their over the top present from Chris- the “Chris-miss- present”
On this latest trip to “holiday” as I waited in the line of ” holiday traffic” the radio started playing the “holiday happy music” as I reached to turn it off I realized this wasn’t one I had heard before ( maybe I had and had just forgotten). The song fitted my mood. I listened for a bit then traffic and horns of a different kind were blaring. I came home and went to the computer pulled up the song ( now forty years old )- another decade indeed another century – Vietnam- the Middle East the death and dying continuing. The song topped the UK charts – maybe it didn’t get played here in Lorain – it was controversial- this “Christmas Song” was one that struck home .
“I Believe in Father Christmas” is a song by English musician Greg Lake with lyrics by Peter Sinfield. Although it is often categorized as a Christmas song, this was not Lake’s intention. He said that he wrote the song in protest at the commercialization of Christmas. Sinfield, however, said that the words are about a loss of innocence and childhood belief. Released in 1975, the song reached number two on the UK Singles Chart.
They said there’ll be snow at Christmas
They said there’ll be peace on earth
But instead it just kept on raining
A veil of tears for the virgin’s birth
I remember one Christmas morning
A winters light and a distant choir
And the peal of a bell and that Christmas tree smell
And their eyes full of tinsel and fire
They sold me a dream of Christmas
They sold me a silent night
And they told me a fairy story
’till I believed in the Israelite
And I believed in father Christmas
And I looked to the sky with excited eyes
’till I woke with a yawn in the first light of dawn
And I saw him and through his disguise…………………
And so another Christmas comes and the questions linger along with the pain…..
I haven’t had the strength of will to write this blog since November 11th. I use this place as therapy, as a way of documenting the rights and wrongs , the history of the place on the planet I find myself on any given day. There are over 60 categories and nearly 1,500 posts since I began in 2008. There are 59 draft posts in waiting….. but I am spent. It will take everything I have to write this post – not to do so would be “giving -up” in my world fraught with conflict.
I am not alone in the terrible place losing one’s son to cancer – watching hourly as life slipped away – the dying days – scared to sleep , scared to leave your son’s side just plain terrified of that day you know is coming when his strength gives out, fighting back those thoughts and ignoring your own eyes as you wait in the hope…. . Helpless as “so called” medical professionals in a teaching hospital used your son as a lab rat, the distancing from reality.
Then the terrible aftermath – the walking zombie like for days- your brain fighting against reality, not knowing how to function in the world you find yourself – your body trying to recover from the days of hopelessness, the anger toward those that in their selfishness and hypocrisy took away dignity, compassion in their need to control.
Pleased that you have more of your life behind you than in front of you – believing in your heart of hearts you will not survive for more than a few days the terrible gutting pain of grief- how could anyone bear this agony for any length of time ? Grief is a terminal disease of the heart and mind but with any chronic disease one finds ways to deal – some medicate, some use their faith as crutches, some choose counselling , some just exist and wait, some write……..
I have managed to get through your dying days for 5 years- the tricks of the grief trade coming to my aid when in public, the knowing where triggers lay, the avoidance of anyone or anything that can bring me crashing to my knees at any given moment . You deal with the grief of being, crippled , unsure still questioning. You survive the daily onslaught and live your life, not as imagined, but as it is.
Maybe it is because for the first time the days match up with the dates of your end of days– Chris. Starting with Nov 11th – the days leading up to that Thursday of Thanksgiving when a Dr. found me alone in the waiting room to tell me you were dying- the hope on the Friday as the nurse told me
she had no such information and she would have been informed- back to hope
– the dreadfully ignorant people who flocked into that waiting room with their recipes, food and cackle. Looking to your father for strength, he , who was as helpless as I . The knowing I couldn’t physically keep up the vigil I had been keeping by your bedside for the two weeks – the sound of the vent- they visit me waking and sleeping.
Has this change to the cycle added more to my pain and remembering? I do know this year is the hardest yet and unbearable resurgence of the pain of being. . Those first weeks there was the anesthetic of “disbelief” this was happening . , the hope that I would wake from the nightmare and an anger that kept me upright.
Could it be that this “real world” where religious beliefs, differing across the planet, causing more mothers to weep , the zealots crying out once more – “test their beliefs before we show kindness and compassion”
In a spell-binding speech before a crowd of French knights, Urban exhorted his adherents to win back “the land of milk and honey” and avenge the Turkish atrocities allegedly perpetrated against their fellow Christians. He cited several of the gory details sent to him by Alexius Comnenus and ended by bidding them fight “for the remission of your sins, with the assurance of imperishable glory.” No matter his actual words, “Kill Moslems indiscriminately!” is what the crowd understood him to say and chanted back Deus le vult! Deus le vult!” (“God wills it! God wills it!”)
four men armed with assault rifles and shouting “Allahu akbar” (“God is great!
““You’re a Christian – I mean, you can prove you’re a Christian,” he said. “You can’t prove it, then, you know, you err on the side of caution.”
Have these cries of intolerance, the platitudes spewed in the media and social media brought home the ignorance and hurt caused to your family by those that pray and prey.
Those who preach and ignore basic doctrine of human kind. Could it be it has played a part these many “end of days” .
What I do know is that for some reason I am “remembering ” hours and happenings that I had pushed into the deepest part of me, they are surfacing and with them the rawness of the time. Could it be I am more able to deal with these memories now, does my body and brain think I am stronger now- it is time for me to “deal” with them as they surface or is it that I am worn so thin in my defenses I can no longer hold them back?
Reaching out in the months after my son’s death, I found others of my ilk and I have borrowed words from one who articulates the grief from a place of knowing… a mother’s knowing …..
” the real horror of this “grief process”…It is not a process at all–it is a state of being; it only looms larger, more all consuming as time passes–not the reverse as we are led (told) to believe. The emptiness more glaring, the loneliness more overwhelming. Who could ever understand the way this nightmare grows and covers everything? Who could even admit this? “
I have only been able to write this post in stages, tears blur the keyboard and the screen , I can only hold my breath so long before the welling in my heart is unbearable and the body goes into “save mode” I need to gather strength from your sister and nephews in order to write. I need to see the laughter, the innocence and tangible love that remains…
I love you and miss you Chris with all my broken heart and body……..
This evening is Beltane and many fire festivals across Europe, Ireland and Great Britain will herald its arrival.
At twilight, on Beltane Eve, fairy folk and magic abound, the veil between realms is thinnest now because the seasons are changing, the energies of nature are rising and with them the mysteries of new life approaching.
Beware then that the Fairy Queen doesn’t steal you away for an eternity outside time in her court sublime, and if you are spared – then welcome the May and enter the Summerlands the very next day. Celestial Elf http://celestialelfdanceoflife.blogspot.com/
I have tried and tried to remember when I first learned about fairies, it seems I knew about them before I could remember. My mum isn’t and wasn’t into fairies, I remember both grandmothers and their stories . The one, Nanny Bunyan was all romance with highway man and injustice in her poems to me as a child- https://thatwoman.wordpress.com/2010/12/23/my-gift-for-your-december-graces-fur-coat/
I can remember back to before I was three. My Nanny Hines was all gentle and loving but her stories were about family. So who told me about fairy folk ? There were so many days playing in the rockery at the end of our garden looking for fairies, fairy rings and building little houses for them. But I have no idea where my belief in the fairies came from- I just did believe in them with all my little innocent and child’s heart.
A few days ago one of the face book people put up the following picture with the caption ” Share if you believe”( the angel overseeing the rescue) As I looked at the picture ( and what I believe having had some experience is a photo shop sort of thing) I nearly wrote
” Yes I believe in fairies”
I then realized the person sharing obviously did believe and who was I to make a sarcastic and unwarranted remark about what they believed to be true. My wondering mind then went to angel wings and feathers- no longer the child- I wondered why are angels usually depicted as having great bird wings with feathers .
I know I am not blessed with an original thought- so I googled –why are angels depicted with feathers? Of course the answers made sense logically speaking :
1. Because when the Bible was written ( apparently the Bible as we know never said angels have wings man decided that ) that was the only way the writers could signify how angels traveled from one place to the other. The Bible was written so that most people could visualize the characters and how they operated.
2. In the space of little more than two centuries (from the 3rd to the 5th) the image of angels took on definite characteristics both in theology and in art -during that era paintings of angels were given wings to differentiate them from humans.
So after reading a much of a muchness to answer my question about angel feathers. Logically the reasoning angels are encumbered with great feathery appendages to their backs is because man needed to explain how angels flew or travelled and their only example of flying things were the birds, and their feathers hence feathers. After all butterfly- like wings would hardly hold up a man or woman those were saved for the fairies.
And here I am again trying to find logic where there is none -except since feathery angel wings are man’s depiction it makes sense that photos of angels with wings hovering over an accident scene is also “man’s depiction”.
Ah beliefs, all entwined with stories that made sense in the man’s need for religion how many Catholics ( meaning the all-encompassing Christian beliefs” or those of Jewish face have used the word Karma in their everyday life and that comes from the oldest ( still practiced) religion today – Hinduism – http://religion.blogs.cnn.com/2014/04/25/9-myths-about-hinduism-debunked/
Each of us has beliefs that are intertwined with other religions , our perception of angels not questioned and who is to say there aren’t fairies at the bottom of the garden , playing in the waterfalls – but one thing I know for sure there is something beyond our child like knowledge of this thing we call “life” and there are “no wings attached ” 😉
These days of winter still linger outside the den window- snow still falling in March. The ground frozen- unyielding and yet below a small little bulb struggles to break through the hard coldness surrounding it. The energy within fights the blackness to reach the surface. Soon the snows will melt in a warming sun turning ice to life, giving moisture, warming the dormant earth until at last the bulb senses a release from the prison. Tentatively, it will send out a small shoot to search for the sunlight- pushing through undaunted and finally celebrating its freedom with a glory of fragrance, colours reflective of passion and hope.
I wish my life was like that – it isn’t- the bulb has more of a chance than I. My world is still dark and frozen. The questions rage on in my mind- WHY? Why is my beautiful son locked in that terrible place- thanks to others.
He had no chance to see the coming spring.
Why?? rings through the bleakness – why if there is as supreme being , whatever the beliefs does he/she allow the horrors perpetrated in their names and yet daily those of light and laughter die? Why???
I don’t know of any answer! I have been reminded of those things this week and your last days. The mask, I had to wear when in your ICU room, caused an allergic reaction under my nose and around my mouth. It took many days for it to heal properly after you died. The scar is there, unseen for the most-part but every so often with a cold virus it will flair. It did this week, from a distance it could be mistaken for a “Hitler moustache. Another subhuman- Roman Catholic altar boy who visited such horror upon mankind.
And yet there is a beauty in this grief so profound as to sap the energy of life and laughter – it is the love that your Nana, Dad and sister still feel – not diminishing- as the world turns once more around the sun – one day I will know the answers ……. as will we all in the meantime I will put my faith in the earth , the sky , the sun and rain to bring forth life……….
Celebrate Samhain 🙂 thanks to CelestialElff
Last week found me pondering the narcissism of one’s beliefs being the paramount “belief” to be foisted upon others. Quite frankly I try to be very respectful of another person’s belief especially if they aren’t mirroring my own. I know what it is like to have one’s beliefs trampled upon , I have been devastated by the control of one group in negating my beliefs when it concerned the death of my son. ( Might does not make Right!) . I would not knowingly inflict that pain on anyone .
It is a long story( as to the email received) and the person who had the idea the majority in the community would certainly agree because hey! aren’t we all Christian and Roman Catholic in Lorain They meant well and they have a good good heart. But once again there is a narcissistic naivety in assuming ALL in this community have the same beliefs just because you are a part of the “majority!. I am sure my email to them stating I had to disagree and that I don’t believe as they do and would have to come out against their proposal came as a bit of a shock.
As I watched Zombies walk in Lorain
https://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.531496826936192.1073741848.476252369127305&type=3 “bloody and yukky” and the enjoyment of the undead as they danced along celebrating “death” gearing up for Hallowe’en and the retail pushing of ghosts , goblins and witches. As I was taking that on board and Christianity and the “holi DAYS” and their meanings I decided to go on a journey of my own. There is a sanctimonious piety that happens here as to ones beliefs being the “ONLY” true belief. Let us go back in time to other rituals of other beliefs …….
300th to 51st millennium BCE
223,000 – 100,000 BCE The earliest evidence of Hominids, such as Neanderthals and even Homo heidelbergensis, deliberately disposing of deceased individuals usually in funerary caches. The graves, located throughout Eurasia (e.g. the Pontnewydd Cave, Atapuerca Mountains, Qafzeh, Es Skhul, Krapina), are believed to represent the beginnings of ceremonial rites, although there is some debate about this. Neanderthals placed their deceased in simple graves with little or no concern for grave goods or markers; however, their graves occasionally appeared with limestone blocks in or on them, possibly an archaic form of grave marking. These practices were possibly the result of empathetic feelings towards fellow tribespeople, for example: an infant buried in the Dederiyeh Cave after its joints had disarticulated was placed with concern for the correct anatomical arrangement of its body parts.
We have to fast forward through thousands and thousands of years and about 87 thousand years later than that first evidence and over three thousand years before Christianity there were a groups of people – pagans – some call them :)but only since the 14th century wonder what they were called before that?
Middle English, from Late Latin paganus, from Latin, civilian, country dweller, from pagus country district; akin to Latin pangere to fix — more at pact
First Known Use: 14th century heathen 1; especially : a follower of a polytheistic religion (as in ancient Rome) one who has little or no religion and who delights in sensual pleasures and material goods : an irreligious or hedonistic person
Druids – who celebrated October 31st as summers end.
Samhain (pronounced sah-win or sow-in) means “summer’s end” by the Celts. In old Germanic and Celtic societies, what we call equinoxes and solstices marked the middles of the season, not the beginnings.” Therefore if there exist an autumnal equinox, winter solstice, spring equinox and a summer solstice, there are also the beginning of autumn, winter, spring and summer. All of these eight dates were important. Summer’s end which meant the beginning of winter was an important time for people who survived on plants grown in the field and animals that were kept in pastures. “This day marked the end of summer and the harvest and the beginning of the dark, cold winter, a time of year that was often associated with human death” It is most likely this reason that the Druids (Celtic pagans) believed that the spirits of those who died the preceding year roamed the earth the night of Samhain
The Druids celebrated this holiday “with a great fire festival to encourage the dimming Sun not to vanish” and people “danced round bonfires to keep evil spirits away, but left their doors open in hopes that the kind spirits of loved ones might join them around their hearths”.
On this night, “divination was thought to be more effective than any other time, so methods were derived to ascertain who might marry, what great person might be born, who might rise to prominence, or who might die”.
Also during the celebration, the Celts “wore costumes, typically consisting of animal heads and skins, and attempted to tell each other’s fortunes”. Crops were burned and animals were sacrificed The spirits were believed to be either “entertained by the living”, or to “find a body to possess for the incoming year”. This all gives reasons as to why “dressing up like witches, ghosts and goblins, villagers could avoid being possessed.” (Navarro )
By 43 AD, “Romans had conquered the majority of Celtic territory.” For the 400 years they occupied Celtic lands, two Roman festivals: Feralia (the commemoration of the passing of the dead) and a day to honor Pomona (the Roman goddess of fruits and trees). The apple served as a symbol for Pomona and which might have been incorporated into Samhain by the practice of “bobbing for apples”
When “local people converted to Christianity during the early Middle Ages, the Roman Catholic Church often incorporated modified versions of older religious traditions in order to win converts.
” Pope Gregory IV wanted to substitute Samhain with All Saints’ Day in 835, but All Souls’ Day (Nov. 2nd) which is closer in resemblance to Samhain and Halloween today, was “first instituted at a French monastery in 998 and quickly spread throughout Europe” (MSN Learning & Research- Halloween).
In the 16th century, “Christian village children celebrated the vigil of All Saints’ by doing the Danse Macabre. The Seven Brethren whose grizzly death is described in the seventh chapter of the deuterocanonical book of Second Macabees” is also said to have resulted in children dressing up in grizzly costumes to signify these deaths.
So “which came first the “witch” or the priest, the goblins or gods, and what pagan holiday are you celebrating- the trick or the treat………….
Before I met my “Yank”- because north – south-east or west all Americans were “Yanks” in the British vernacular.
I spent an interesting couple of years being a “Temp” for the fashion and also the recording industry in London. This meant I got to meet and “party” with a lot of the people who made it in those industries and some that didn’t. I dated one chap ( not for long ) who was the event co-ordinator for EMI Records –
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/EMI- which meant a lot of parties, concerts and events.
At one party, I sat on the stairs of the ‘house” with Ray Davies of the Kinks –
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Kinks who I must admit was talking a load of rubbish and I was soon bored . I believe that is the last time I went out with the EMI chap ;)I had met this “Yank”!
So what has the Kinks, Ray Davies and culture got to do with what has happened in my life since locating and the subsequent pain and angst caused by the Italian- Polish Roman Catholics of control? https://thatwoman.wordpress.com/2014/06/15/kink-s-in-fathers-day-best-of-british-pt-one/
We have to go back in time once more – to my decision to marry my Yank– although I expected him to stay in England – he wished to go home as he knew and felt comfortable with being able to find employment in his country – he never was culturally comfortable in London-( apart from his love of the pubs) he hated the weather and preferred small town USA. He would , is where he was culturally formed and grew up.
I, on the other hand loved London, the big city sights and sounds, the transportation , trains, ferries – I could go to Europe for a week, the access to the English countryside, the lovely old world pubs and especially the food.
I had also lived in the equivalent of small town USA – Canadian style- for about 8 years until I was 15 so the reasoning was it wouldn’t be such a culture shock for myself to go the USA. I have to admit I thought of Boston, New York when I thought of the USA not Midwest America.
The clincher was my mother who said ( old school that she was )-
you have to follow your husband- that is how it is done when you marry
– and my father saying
“Loraine , one thing you have to remember is that you are going to his country, you must make the effort to acclimatize yourself to that way of life, be involved in their lifestyle and community. Do not make the mistake of comparing England with the USA learn the American Ways”
When my husband to be and I filled with the USAF the necessary paper work ( due partly to his security clearance at the time) I was investigated, interviewed ( I had been to Czechoslovakia which was a “red flag” ) had every aspect of my life scrutinized as well as my mum and dad. The shock on the face when meeting with one interviewer when this 19-year-old stated –she would like the investigated history of her fiancée as well was priceless. That didn’t happen, which was a shame because had I known then what I know now my husband would be speaking with an English accent 😉
and oppressive heat that July – I knew I was in trouble. I felt I had been picked up and dumped into a completely strange world. I hated every moment. My husband, comfortable in his world, could not understand my loneliness, my feeling of being trapped and isolated. There was no public transportation, , nowhere to go that I could walk to , where was the theatre, the discussions on world events. honestly I don’t think his family even knew there was a world outside the USA or even Ohio. I was totally dependent on strangers – even though we spoke the same language, I was drowning – terribly unhappy .
Getting employment was not that easy as the love of my life refused to work in a factory ( The Ford plant at the time) and take his coffee breaks by the bell. He was on a greyhound bus ( there apparently was one running between Sandusky and Cleveland) . He was on that bus as we had not yet been able to purchase a vehicle when to bus broke down in Lorain!
To be continued………
I have in my lifetime , of course like all of us, experienced death of a loved one, a grandmother, grandfather, father , cousins, uncles and friends. I have cried tears reached out, tried to comfort. Any hurts and bad memories pushed away as one says goodbye and tried to ease the heart hurt of those who had loved who were left to grieve.
I couldn’t begin to imagine the pain borne by mothers and fathers of those who had lost a child. It was something foreign to me and I never wanted to know such pain.
Unfortunately, I know now how torturous, overwhelming and unending such anguish follows one day after day hour after hour as you are trapped in a surreal world.
The only experience I had, up until the point we lost Chris, with death was compassionate, a coming together of those that loved and grieved for the deceased. Honouring their final journey was paramount, in my personal experience, understanding the needs of those of the family- who were of paramount importance.
The worst thing in the world is the loss of a son or daughter. There is no greater loss- I defy anyone to disagree. Less than a year after Chris died I started to write a post- which I didn’t publish but I have now copied here.
My thoughts have not changed, my pain has not lessened. I wondered, as I wrote the draft those three ago, whether my feelings changed. They haven’t There is still the bewilderment of the cruelty faced in a parents worst of worst, the unfeeling inhumanity from those pious sycophants to religion and their church. No! they live their lives unscathed and unscarred ….
I have lived through November once again and have come to the conclusion date of a life I so nurtured and loved – my son. I unwillingly replay those last weeks, days, minutes and hours over and over again .
I question WHY? with so many things that happened- Why him, why a curable cancer that wasn’t curable- and Why didn’t I? I have had time to reflect and try to find answers for all of what happened- there aren’t any.
I knew that last day of his life how dreadful “living” was going to be without my son, I prayed I would die too. I was in such a state of confusion , the lack of reality of not fully comprehending this horror – but somehow I also knew his in-law family were not of the passionate feeling kind but they had a remarkable coolness as to the situation in which we all found ourselves fated together Little did I realize that coolness was a coldness of heart and soul that would shrivel compassion into nothingness.
I kept trying to put myself in Angela’s ( his bride of 549 days- )place – what must she be going through, I tried to understand –
I really did – BUT try as I might try to put myself in her shoes wasn’t happening- her reactions and that of her family ( especially her mother) to situations were totally foreign to me. I have said – she must have really disliked Chris family from the very outset- that has now become painfully obvious in the aftermath.
I have experienced death and when a loved one dies there was a “gathering of comfort, a support system, people understood the loss one was feeling” and when a parent loses the most precious thing in their lives their son or daughter- the gathering of comfort was intensified- because every parent dreads outliving their child. It is understood universally by everyone on the planet and yet…………
And yet this certainly wasn’t the case from my perspective with Angela Ritchey DO Now married to another Chris and now Angela Murphy DO
her parents Tim and Sue Lombardi and their clan.
They compounded the pain, anguish and grief , the most torturous time of a mother and fathers life and seemingly , at least in Sue’s case relished the power, she had by default- the power of punishment. I have written hundreds of thousands of words on what they did and the effect-
They like some plaintiffs in a divorce “grabbed ” what they were legally owed – without regard to the utter misery they caused in the day my son died and beyond. We were not a thought in their greedy self righteous thinking. Well I certainly don’t expect well wishes now of course but I can attest to the sheer anguish, pain and disgust they left with us.
In a divorce there is the dividing of assets, hurts and he said/ she said – nastiness, gossips and the trying to get the friends to take sides- this has happened as my son died and they did their worst. All this over the body of Christopher to whom I gave those days of life from my body and whom I would have traded places if it meant he could live. .
Life, I have had too many hours to ponder – I saw a television commercial the other day where it stated we live for 25,000 DAYS – it struck home – not a lot of time is it – especially to those of us who count the days wanting them to end the anguish I carry.
I decided to do some research and Chris only had 10,259. Then, as this brain that drives me, started going through those days I realized that we were lucky enough to have spent
over 9,509 of those days – every day with our son.
The days we didn’t spend with him whilst he was at CIA, we talked at 9:00 p.m. every night, when the free cell phone rate kicked in 🙂 ( he would check in) – my Chris Fix Wednesdays would see his father and I meeting him at indoor soccer games at 11:00 pm at night to give him clean laundry, money and food for the week.
Even the days after his wedding- I was there at his apartment during the roughest Chemo, I cooked for him, made him comfortable, did what I could.
I was there every day of the weeks in hospital for the stem cell transplants , taking his food, changing the sheets, getting him water, orange slices anything to give him strength and hope.
We saw him at Nikki’s every weekend and I was with him everyday during his forced stay in Texas for the “SGN 35 Trial”” in Texas -bar 6.
I didn’t question at the time WHY I was with my son and not his “wife” I was just grateful I could be with him and take care of him- I didn’t question her “absence….. or the nagging thought
why does a woman who knows her husband is dying not want to spend whatever time she can with him?
I have plenty of time to add and subtract in my research and I came up with the fact although they dated – Angela Marie Lombardi was away at college, and then at medical school, it wasn’t an everyday romance– lives were being lived elsewhere hers and his. The high school relationship in the obituary (didn’t start til his senior year and yes there were other girls ( I have the homecoming and prom pictures). In fact, they broke up at one point during his college time and a girl named Kate was in the picture. The worst decision I now realize was the talking to my son about getting back together with Angela- how many times during this horror have I wished I hadn’t interfered. His story of the “cancer may not have changed BUT ours with this “family of misfortune” would not have happened.
I added up the days and added a few more just incase the fog of memory clouded the research and I may have missed a few.
The days with Angela totaled less than a thousand – Even Anne Boleyn had a thousand days but Anne Boleyn felt the sharp edge of the axe of a “ruling family” and we have felt the weight of the sharp edge of control of the Lombardi Clan.
As for Angela’s family I never met them until Angela graduated for Lorain Catholic High School we went to her graduation- quite frankly I said to Chris – well they certainly are rude are you supposed to be dating her after all they never even said hello- I didn’t see them again for 2 years when Nikki got married and they were invited to the wedding ( Angela was a bridesmaid) and then we went to a couple of their “Christmas Eves”.
I don’t suppose in the total time Chris dated and was engaged to Angela we spent a full 24 hours ( combined) in conversation with these people. And yet, these same people took our son remains, our closure , and grace in his final days and any comfort our faith could give us . They took away with it my faith in people, in priests, in religion, in family in healing and
And now these many , many months later, the pain still writhes ,slithers and encircles and the property of control was divided as they carry on with their lives , their plans and new romances but humanity and the milk of human kindness remains lost among the perpetrators of self……….
You don’t need a bible, a priest or a social book to tell one what is right and kind unless you are amongst the hypocrites of self