Posts filed under ‘weddings and funerals’
Sept. 3rd – No Limits- Chapter 8- Chris Ritchey
No Limits- The book
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/
After the Wedding- Chapter 8
All during the trip to Europe I was in a state of panic . I tried not to show my fear, after all Nikki was pregnant it was a time of celebration, of being with family and supposedly moving forward with hope and happiness. No matter how I tried I could not quell the terror that would shake me awake at night or in unguarded moments transport me to a dark place.
I wasn’t alone in this thing called premonition, Chris as a little boy had dreams and premonitions too. They faded as he grew or maybe he just didn’t pay attention to them. The day I brought my son home from the hospital, I sat gazing at his little flushed faced and those eyes , new to the wonder of a world experienced for the first time and my mother admiring her new grandson , I heard myself saying as I looked at my miracle and said out-loud as my mum sat with me – he will have a sad life! I don’t know what made me say it, I put it down to post-partum nonsense but I was always, in hindsight, since that utterance tried to make sure Chris’ life would not be sad. I spoiled him and loved him, laughed with him, enabled him and tried everything I could to protect him.
After Chris had completed his radiation treatments and we were finally over our “European Flu” , my husband and I were invited to the newlyweds apartment for dinner. I hadn’t seen Chris in a couple of weeks he had been travelling out of state for Wyse Advertising in his position as an Art Director. He had the Meineke Account and they were shooting a new ad based on Chris’ ideas which would be aired on CNN and on the Meineke Bowl December 27th 2008.
As I walked into their apartment that evening in November 2008 my arms full of wine and flowers , my son was sitting in “his” chair – one he had purchased after the wedding- men always have to have “their chair”. I stopped short as I looked at my son – something was wrong, his eyes, dark circles , pallor I knew it was not good, but he had been through a lot and was back at work; logical reasoning’s flooded into my thought process but I knew all the while knowing this wasn’t good. I smiled and said:
I will just give these things to Angela, talk to your dad, I will be back in a second.
I joined Angela in the small kitchen , I had hoped that my wariness of her , which I had felt from the first day I was introduced to her, would have dissipated now they were married. But no! it hadn’t, there was something that made me uncomfortable around her, something that made me try too hard with her, not be me. I remember thinking:
she is like her mother in so many ways but there has to be something I am not seeing in her that Chris does.
I knew from Chris’s own lips, Sue Lombardi, the mother in law, was an irritant to him and didn’t gladly suffer her. There were times my son used the cancer and fatigue as an excuse NOT to go to the Lombardi gatherings, and yet was well enough to join Jim and others at the Irish pub.
Angela, Chris does not look well to me is he OK…. is this the after effects of the treatment?
Oh No! she said
he caught cold on the trip for Wyse – flying you tend to pick up stuff and his immune system is down because of the chemo and radiation. He is on antibiotics from the Dr. at South Pointe.
I felt somewhat relieved, after all she was now a resident, the hospital staff knew Chris and his situation and so we sat down to dinner. I couldn’t take my eyes off my son, even though I was careful not to let him see I was looking and the quiet fear became a deafening roar.
Thanksgiving 2008 came, Angela was working (supposedly), I am not sure to this day that I believed that .. I felt that she wanted to spend Thanksgiving with her family and Chris with his, so they decided to each go their own way and Chris would go to Lombardi’s for dessert.
Chris sat as his usual place at the dining room table. I realized I hadn’t really seen Angela but a couple of times, and then only briefly, since they had been married. Chris would come to Nikki’s every weekend but never did Angela stay, she was usually with her family.
I had cooked Chris all his favorite dishes that Thanksgiving Day but they largely went untouched. After he left to join Angela at her mother’s, Nikki was worried:
We have to do something, Mum, something is not right with Chris, I don’t care what Angela says he is ill. .
Chris had been scheduled for a PET Scan but he didn’t want Christmas to be a blow out so he scheduled the scan after Christmas. We had a Christmas , Nikki and I treading on eggshells and swallowing our fears like they were broken glass.
Angela stayed at her parents and Chris as usual stayed with Nikki, he had his own room. I went over Christmas morning and Nikki was very worried Chris looked dreadful .
Angela duly arrived that morning in her pajamas and coat , she called up to Chris to
get up and come on she was waiting ,
they, the Lombardi Clan were all going to the cemetery where the little cousin who had been killed by the falling tree branch that September was buried in their pajamas with gifts for the grave , opening Christmas stockings and decorate a tree.
I heard my son say
“No that is sick I am not going to be part of that ,you go but I am NOT!
Angela Ritchey- In red – by Chris Ritchey
Angela’s face darkened , you could tell she was angry and that Chris had disagreed with her in front of me and his Nana . I heard her say as she left the room
” things will be different next year”
I remember my mum looking at me and saying:
you know that girl has a coldness in her I hadn’t realized….
prophetic words indeed.
Dec 27th, Chris was still at Nikki’s where we all tried to help him, Angela pretty much stayed away sulking somewhat after the Christmas morning incident, Chris explained . We duly sat around the flat screen to watch the Meineke Bowl for his ad.
I was sitting on the couch and Chris slowly started to slump over his head on my lap , like he did when he was a little boy and I knew…… time was not going to be kind…..
Chris, had the PET Scan January 3rd went back to Dr. Abraksia , the oncologist, who originally over saw the chemo treatments and eventually the worst fears materialized. Less than 3 months after being pronounced cured of the curable cancer Hodgkin’s Lymphoma morphed into Refractory Hodgkin’s Lymphoma.
Nikki was around 6 months pregnant when Chris called me that January evening with the news the cancer was back. I knew I had to tell Nikki in person – her being pregnant was something unexpected and we were treating her like crystal, as just 4 months before her pregnancy Drs. and specialists told her she would not be able to have children. But I knew she was pregnant before she did , I told Chris , he got angry with me
Mum, stop it you know how much Nikki wants a baby that is wrong of you.
I said ,
well I just know she is....
and when she came over with the scan I said
Oh Nikki I have to tell Chris……
there was such excitement
I knew that Nikki had to be told carefully so got into my car and drove to her home. It was snowing and icy and I nearly took out a mail box . Jim answered the door, one look at me and he knew things were bad- I told Nikki what I knew and she crumpled in two, just sort of folded up.
her baby brother –
she wanted to go to him right away but we convinced her otherwise- tomorrow we said .
Nikki and I went to Best Buy on the way and purchased a small flat screen for Chris’s bedroom- knowing he would be shut in that room whilst new treatments were tried. Chris was waiting for us, I started to unpack the TV whilst Nikki and Chris went to the bedroom- I heard him say-
Nik- I did everything they told me to do, why is it back it is supposed to be curable?
Other self by Chris Ritchey
My heart was in my mouth- I stayed out in the living room giving Nikki and Chris space” to be”. It was always the two of them against the world.
And so another medical chapter in the journey of the obscenity of Cancer began. I will write of that journey of stem cell transplants, trials the hope and the horror , the circus that is cancer . However, this book is not about the journey of medical treatment but that of life and connection.
The Touch- Chris Ritchey
August 3rd- No Limits- Chapter7- Chris Ritchey
No Limits- The book
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/
After the Wedding:
I got through the wedding with a pretense of happiness, and the chemo and radiation treatments continued. We actually didn’t see Angela for weeks , she and Chris would come back to Lorain from Cleveland on weekends, Angela would stay with her parents but Chris would spend the weekend at his sisters, where I would see him. It was a bit strange but since I got to see him I wasn’t bothered.
Before Chris’s diagnosis his father and I, my mum and Nikki booked a trip to Europe. Mainly to attend a family event in September and for Nikki and her dad to go to Scotland and Germany, a cruise up the Rhine. It was supposed to be celebration of retirement and a break for us.
Unfortunately , it turned out to be the trip from hell. Apart from the fact none of us , after Chris diagnosis wanted to go and surprise, surprise Nikki found out she was 8 weeks pregnant, Nana was going to be a great grandmother at least this news was wonderful!
We still dithered about going but Chris insisted he was on his last treatment and only had some radiation to get through and we should go an enjoy. Enjoy was not the word we would ever use with that trip.
There were some good times whilst in England and Chris was only a phone call away from his worrying family . We checked on him daily, he probably got fed up but was patient with us.
It was when we left England the trouble started, we were the last train out of the Euro Tunnel to France when the tunnel caught fire caught fire. We weren’t aware of that until we reached Strasbourg and our hotel. We had only planned to stay in Strasbourg the one night Sept 11th . We had called home to tell them we would be out of phone contact for a week on the boat up the Rhine, only to be greeted with the news that the rail crossing and tunnel would be closed due to the fire and no-one was sure when it would open.
The boat on the Rhine was not good, Nikki was feeling queasy , no one spoke English and my French was poor , although I managed, we still couldn’t get any news and I hated every minute. Even the weather matched my mood
After 4 days I could stand it no longer and we left the boat early and travelled back to Strasbourg to the little hotel by the cathedral. Nikki put in a call to England whilst her dad and I went to look for food. Upon our return to the room we were greeted with the news Angela’s young cousin had been riding his bike home when a storm hit and he was killed by a falling tree limb.
Nikki was sitting cross legged on the bed the open Pizza box in front of her and no -one ate. The time difference meant we had to wait to try and get hold of Chris and Angela, and we had no idea what to do or say.
There is nothing worse than being away from your loved ones when something like this happens, you feel totally inadequate and helpless. The next morning , although I am not a Catholic, I walked across the square to Strasbourg Cathedral to light a candle of remembrance for this child who was of that faith.
My mind was not on the beautiful windows, architecture, statues and carvings
I watched the tourists as they quietly took in all the beauty that surrounded them, the sound of the Cathedral’s bells reverberating through the stillness.
My heart heavy, I leaned against a pillar whilst my husband took photos and noticed the stone pillar was scarred and what looked ( to me) like bullet holes, it hadn’t been fixed. Had there been a battle of some sort that had scarred the stone? Then I noticed
Life has a way of making you realize what is truly important “life itself”, I lit a candle for a little boy lost in Lorain, another for those brave men, boys really, whose mothers also wept whose young lives were lost all the time wondering what the future would bring , would prayers be answered…. and fighting down the tears I hoped I would not have to shed for my own son.
I knew Angela and her aunts were religious and fervent Catholics, but not sharing those same beliefs I wasn’t sure what we could do to ease or give comfort. Nikki and I purchased two rosaries from the Cathedral and had them blessed by the priest, one for Angela and one for her aunt whose sorrow I know was crippling.
Nikki flew back earlier and my husband and I stayed, he came down with some sort of horrible flu and by the time we traveled back 10 days later , we all had it, my mum, me and him. Mum ended up in hospital and I was out for the count for 11 days. It meant that I didn’t get to see Chris, none of us did because we daren’t with his compromised immune system . I didn’t get to see him until a month later. He had changed in the months I hadn’t seen him, his blonde hair had come back in dark, he had a goatee sort of beard that was tinged with red, he looked older in fact his nose had changed , I am not sure if the Chemo did something to the cartilage but his nose was thinner, a bit more beaky . I stared at him quietly seeing the changes in the lines of his face , his eyes , his smile was still the same though. Chris didn’t often smile but when he did he could light up a room and when I saw that smile as we walked into Nikki’s great room he lit up my heart once more and I remembered the years of smiles and love he had given to us always…….
To be Continued >>>
July 3rd- NO LIMITS- Chapter 6 – Chris Ritchey
No Limits- The book
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/
If the night before at the Rehearsal Dinner was hot , the day of the wedding dawned humid and hotter. I don’t handle heat and no sleep at the best of times, and this definitely wasn’t a good time. For the sake of my children and family I tried so hard to act cheerful and excited, all the while with this great lump of concrete in my gut and a dread of things to come. I can only liken this feeling to having the overwhelming feeling /intuition by getting on to a plane and knowing it will crash. I knew the prognosis for Chris form of cancer Hodgkin’s Lymphoma was excellent, 95 percent cure rate, ” if you had to have cancer this is the one you would want” a few rounds of chemo and a couple of treatments of radiation and you will be fine.
BUT then why did everything in my mind scream at me there is a world of hurt coming our way ……?
artwork Chris Ritchey
THE WEDDING
I knew that Chris would be putting on a brave face, he had a round of chemo on the Thursday and it usually caught up with him by the Saturday, and here he was having to go through a horrendously busy morning, afternoon and evening. I knew he would not let on how he was dealing and feeling with all the poisons coursing through his body. He was so particular when it came to Nikki’s wedding in regard to his tuxedo, having to make a special trip to the tailor to have it adjusted the day before. Nana and Chris at Nikki’s Wedding
Chris had lost weight with the cancer and chemo and his tux was too big, but he didn’t seem to care, not at all like Chris, but then he had more on his plate to worry about.
The wedding at St. Mary’s Catholic Church officiated by Father Daniel Divis , Chris had refused the usual Catholic protocol to get married in the church , and he was allowed to do so probably due to the cancer diagnosis and the Father Divis “relationship” he had with the Lombardis.
I sat in that church , not being very enamored with organized religion as a bit of a hypocrite, but it was Chris and Angela’s day , it was her faith and she was very in touch with her faith. My husband and mother and I sat there “together but alone” .
The ceremony over , and I couldn’t hear a word, but then Angela always made me feel like I was deaf, so soft spoken was she. I had spent the morning putting together a small cooler bag for Chris and the wedding party ( mainly for Chris) to take in the limo. It had cold water , some snacks he could eat after chemo , and some cool cloths as his body temps rose after chemo set in.
Wedding over I came home showered and cried until it was time to put on the “face” again for the reception. No matter how I tried I just could not get out of this terrible feeling like some darkness was going to envelop me.
Oh ! this happy day could only get worse heat wise when the air-conditioning at the Holiday Inn failed. However, as bad as that was as I went to the gifts table to put our check in for the Bride and Groom , not a “wishing well” or a cute little decorated box but a “casket ” with flowers on the top courtesy of Sue Lombardi ‘WHAT WAS THE WOMAN THINKING – WAS THIS APPROPRIATE” Was I being overly sensitive? although the comments from my friends they too were shocked and my mother was furious.
” I knew as soon as I saw that coffin on the table it would hurt you Loraine”
The wedding although apparently enjoyed by others left me flat especially when Father Divis reacted to the best man’s speech, I wrote about it afterward , (at the time I did not mention his name BUT of course now in that blog post he is mentioned )as I was shocked , although this man of God would shock me later after the death of my son to my core !
“This was brought home over the weekend ( and I can take a joke better that a lot of people) . A speech that bordered on not only the insulting ( for me )cultural racism by a priest (Daniel O. Divis – Office of the Secretariat)who insulted every English person and non catholic at a function. He spoke of Ulster and Northern Ireland in a way that for those of us who lived through the bombings and were directly effected by the IRA and the terrorism THEY inflicted upon a population both Irish and English , that was financed primarily from this side of the Atlantic was akin to making jokes about 911. Would you tolerate jokes about 911?
So what makes it OK for a pseudo “Irish” priest of Lorain to make the jokes and insult a group of people because they are “English”? A fellow diner said it is just ignorance of the situation– I beg to differ any Catholic Priest who claims Irish lineage KNEW exactly what he was saying, which to me makes it all the more disgraceful – am I wrong??????
You tell me when is it ok for terrorism to be lauded and applauded and when is it abhorred – is it OK to make derogatory remarks as long as it is based on culture and then only one certain segment of the population’s culture – Is it Ok to do this based on culture and not colour???
Although I did have a “word” with the man- I am sure it fell on deaf ears…… So when is it OK – tell me???? because I find this grey area very confusing ?
https://thatwoman.wordpress.com/2008/06/08/when-is-it-ok/
AND THIS SPEECH WAS AT A “wedding”
We got through the wedding and reception,. The Mother/ Son dance was one of the toughest things I knew I had very little control left and as we danced ( and I told Chris ( who was always my confidant) I may need Nikki and his dad to help me through. He understood , he knew me so well and we were always upfront with one another. So when I was becoming “emotionally incontinent” halfway through the dance he signaled to Nikki and his dad to join us on the floor as a group. ( that did not go down too well with the Lombardi clan) .
My husband , mother and I left at a reasonable time just after the first guests were leaving. I told Chris Nana was tired but he knew and he by this time was physically showing the effects of a very long day and the poisonous chemo. I wanted to gather my child up and make him well , but all this was now out of my hands , he was a married man now!
The next day was “come over ( to the Lombardis) and look at the presents” day , we had company so I stayed with them . The next thing I remember was Chris coming round the corner with the casket under his arm with his Best Man. I said
what are you doing here?
He said:
Sue Lombardi and her mother were anxious to open up the “box” to see how much money they received
and he said
No! he and Angela would do that later .. I don’t want them knowing our business and who gave what so I have brought it here to stop their prying . . Turns out there was no check from the Lombardis in that casket,
Angela said : ” they paid for the wedding”
HA! thanks to their “bar arrangements” we paid more to the Holiday Inn for the drinks etc. than they paid for the wedding, and I know that how ? The wedding planner lady was so frustrated with them and their way of ordering her about she told me and actually gave me a discount on the total bar bill.
And so the next weeks came and went all too quickly.
To be continued …..
June 3rd- No Limits- Chapter 5- Chris Ritchey
No Limits- The book
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/
The wedding plans went on. I excused myself from most of them by feigning migraines leaving my mother, daughter and husband to do the duty.
I was stretched thin on patience and discretion and retreat was for the me the better part of valor. I know my limits and I knew I could not deal with the Lombardi women ( at least not quietly).
The kick off came re the bridesmaid dresses , the drama- because my daughter ( who was, in my opinion, added to the group because of Chris’ insistence) DARED to have her dress altered to better fit. The phone call from the irate Sue Lombardi after they saw Nikki’s dress hanging at the seamstress ( without their permission) . I was curious as to WHY they apparently were at that same seamstress with their garments was never explained.
It was then after the ensuing chastising phone call from Sue, Chris who was irate, as he listened, as I dealt with his future mother in law , not angry with me but with Angela and Sue and the upset such a pettiness caused – I decided to politely back away from all things concerning the wedding, apart from paying. Truth be known they really didn’t want my input and obviously Chris was becoming caught in the middle of the women of his life at the same time as dealing with cancer.
We managed to get through the wedding shower all smiles and faking for the guests.
There was no way I could go to the “hen night”, aptly named in my opinion, so the dreaded migraine reappeared although I know I didn’t fool Chris , but he understood, he understood me better than anyone.That duty was left to Nikki and my mother .
My mother , bless her, got a bit inebriated ( thanks to Nikki) and since they were not made the most welcome by the “clan”, barely speaking to them I am told. My mother joined people at another table , after a few of the beverages my daughter ordered for her became the hit of the night with the other tables.
A dear friend, Mark, was eating at the same venue , he took some photos called me and said
” Your mum is such a character, she is entertaining the whole restaurant by grabbing a blow up man from another hen night group and dancing around the place, cheered on by the onlookers.
Not bad for a 90 year old woman.
Chris, who turned up with his friends to drive people home, laughed and said
Mum , Nana is just wonderful
I don’t think she went down too well with the Lombardi’s though.
a smile from Sue would have cracked her face in two
said Chris.
The Friday, of the rehearsal dinner on the 6th dawned so very hot and airless, totally out of keeping for early June. The wedding date was based on Angela wanting 06.07.08 numerical sequence. The dinner was planned at a facility overlooking Lake Erie in Lakeview Park. I had booked the place before it was even finished being built.
There was (of course) issues as to my choice of menu, I had decided on heavy, hot and cold hors d’oeuvres. I worked with a local caterer, who actually had been a family friend, well respected for his establishment and catering abilities. He told me that when the Lombardi women came to his establishment to check out its viability for the reception, they left him feeling insulted by their attitude . He was quite annoyed, and went above and beyond in all I asked from him.
The menu included mini Beef Wellingtons, meatballs, pasta, mini quiches, a carvery ( turkey, beef and ham) for sandwiches, salads of all kinds, crab claws and shrimp in ice, underneath an ice vase sculpture topped with flowers. Beer and wine ( no hard liquor allowed at that time) . cakes , cookies and deserts, strawberries and fresh fruit. The table fared groaned with food. However, when Angela was shown the menu, prior to the dinner ( as a courtesy I might add) , she went into the den with Chris and sent him out and he said to me….
Angela feels this needs to be adjusted , people will be coming in from out of town ( the event was set of 50) they will be hungry and she doesn’t think hors d’oeuvres will be appropriate , she suggests chicken , red skin potatoes , green beans and cheese and macaroni.
I said:
NO! Chris – this is my contribution to your wedding . I have put a great deal of thought, along with Nikki, and Nana on this from entertainment , decor and giving you something from me!
I realized Angela had not been at any of my “party planning” previously but I looked at Chris and said
when have I ever not had enough food at anything I have planned?
I called my caterer and told him what had been said and I asked him to add something along the line of chicken wings and a macaroni dish. He sighed and said “Typical”
The morning of the rehersal dinner I drove to Lakeview Park to check on final arrangement the food, tables , decorations etc. I looked out as I got into my car over to the lighthouse where Chris and Angela had become engaged.
Lorain Lighthouse – Lorain 365 ( L. Miller)
Nikki and I had helped Chris plan that July day of engagement, 11 months prior, the “asking Angela to marry me “place”. Christopher saying:
“You helped Jim to make Nikki’s engagement special you have to help me make this special too mum!
And Nikki and I did help- organizing champagne, roses, a table holding silver goblets and a boat trip to the Lorain Lighthouse on a beautiful day. Anticipating celebration Nikki and I, dad and others sat on the patio of the Jacalope restaurant looking out at the lighthouse happy for the young couple on this very special day.
So why, as I sat in the car looking out at the same scene- the same lighthouse shimmering in the heat of the day the afternoon before the wedding, albeit from a different perspective – why did, I feel such panic and the “knowing” this wedding should not take place?
I looked out on a shining blue lake, sunshine kissing the waves and argued with myself:
“What the hell is wrong with you, why aren’t you happy you should be happy –
Yes, Chris has been diagnosed with Hodgkin’s but the prognosis is good, why aren’t you wanting to celebrate?
Angela has stood by him through this diagnosis, she has helped him – she has stuck by him- this has to be such a difficult time for her – (I admired her and was grateful to her for that)
He is getting married, starting a life so what is it with you? Why are you sitting here at Lakeview looking out at the lighthouse and feeling such a dreadful feeling?
I went home in a mood so dark, I couldn’t shake the feeling this wedding should not take place. My husband called my daughter I was in such a foul temper!
“you had better come talk to your mother she is having a melt down”
It was as if every fiber of my being was pulling at me NO! this wedding must not happen it will bring pain and sorrow to those I love. What was making me think this way? I have always trusted my “gut feelings” and this time I couldn’t and wouldn’t.
My daughter duly arrived and told me off in such a fashion as to make my own guilt and selfishness of feeling take place of the dreadful fear or premonition I was experiencing – Nikki did not hold back in her telling me like it was:
This is Chris’ wedding- the happiest day of his life- You have to stop this you have to think of Chris, he will be fine he will come out the other side of this, you can’t let him see you like this.
Of course , I thought she is right, once again I was being selfish, Chris has to come first and so you have to suck it up.
The rehearsal dinner for which I was responsible was lovely and everything went well I thought. I put on a brave face and tried to be a good hostess , but that feeling of dread did not leave – it was there with every smile every word uttered.
Chapter 6 the Wedding…….
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
July 3rd – the cooler bag – Chris Ritchey
Another day , week, month, year- I have learned the navigation of the path of pain- I know now most of the emotional laybys , the pitfalls that can swallow you whole . I have become aware of them as I travel this way of grief. Oh! sometimes, even knowing they are there does not save me from tripping and trembling as I go forward in this life.
Nana, she of the wonderful pastries and food of love, had made a sausage pie for friends who were visiting. We had to take the pie and accoutrements to Catawba last week. The pie needed to be kept cool on the journey but a big cooler wouldn’t do. Nana, who has pretty much taken over the kitchen since she moved here, knows where everything is and pulled out a plastic cooler bag. My heart ended up in my throat once again , I must have turned white, because Nana said
” are you alright what is wrong ?”
That silly, cheap, plastic cooler bag, I had forgotten its very existence. I never knew where it came from originally. We weren’t into Nascar – but there it was . They say your life flashes before your eyes when you drown- all I can say is your life flashes before my eyes every time I am confronted with an unexpected object , sight, sound that was you.
As I looked at that bag, Nana washing it out readying it for her pie, I remembered the orange slices and water it had kept cool for all those soccer games. I remembered grabbing it out of the cupboard on the morning you got married. I hated that day, my beautiful son dealing with chemo and the diagnosis of Hodgkin’s but still filled with false hope.
It was a record-breaking heat that June day, and I knew the ” family of the bride” would insist on the plethora of pictures being taken, driving here and there in the limo- I was so worried about how you would be able to handle the whole thing feeling ill as you were. – The Lombardi , Vyka clan were all about those pictures- still are. 
I grabbed the bag threw in some of you favourite sandwiches and water , and orange slices. I knew you were feeling ill because the Chemo had been on the Thursday and its poison was killing ( supposedly) the cancer cells and your good cells- it knew no difference. I put the bag in the limo.
You hugged me at the reception and whispered in my ear –
I gave the bag to Nikki , she has it, thanks mum – couldn’t do justice to the sandwiches but the orange slices and water went down well thanks for thinking of it.
When the cancer came back and you couldn’t eat and the next round of “treatment” was prescribed I would come to sit with you in your apartment so Angela -your “bride” -could continue working- ( although I later found out that was not always the case as to her whereabouts). It didn’t matter to me then or now where she was – I know the truth of her and it is dark!
I just wanted to take care of my son, to try to keep the promises I made to you when you were born-
” I won’t let anything happen to you- I will protect you”
That cooler bag went with me every day for weeks whilst you were having your double stem cell transplant . You couldn’t bear the smell of the hospital food- the smell of the plastic covers keeping the food hot disgusted you. I would take a meal up in the cooler bag, your lunch and dinner, every single day to be heated in the hospital “family room” microwave. The orange whip, Nana would make you , so cooling ( full of calories) would slide down and not burn your mouth that was blistered by the chemo.
The last time I used that cooler bag- a phone call from Angela as I was shopping at KMart
” Chris said you were coming to spend the night should I get something for supper – she had to work that night”
– I was bewildered, as I was actually in Kmart getting new bed linens, as I believed you to be coming home for the weekend- after that disastrous and stupid idea of Angela’s stating you could drive back from Houston .
https://thatwoman.wordpress.com/2010/04/20/i-didnt-know-my-son-chris-ritchey/
I was puzzled- she hadn’t said anything about working- You never mentioned to me in your morning phone call about needing me to come- just that you wanted to come home for the weekend . Oh! later I found out she was not scheduled to work that night- she requested to work at 4 in the afternoon WHY? . – Hindsight is 20/20
I packed the cooler with your favourite dinner and we ate together one last time in your home. You went into the clinic again the next morning – dying- never to come home.
Angela , Sue and Tim Lombardi
I forgot about the cooler bag, left on the kitchen counter in that apartment of deceit as I followed the ambulance to the Cleveland Clinic ER.
I never thought of it again until we received 4 months after your death ( via the funeral home) the box of
“throw- aways”… because that was what they were- from the Lombardi Clan and Angela( now Angela Murphy DO http://my.clevelandclinic.org/staff_directory/staff_display?doctorid=16147 ) along with her disgraceful, lacking in any sort of compassionate thought, letters- to your family who were raw with grief.
In the bottom of the box was the cooler bag -not good enough to keep obviously or to give to their charities . I couldn’t throw it away, it had been such a part of those months – so I stuffed it in a little used kitchen cupboard until ….. Nana’s sausage pie………….. and once more your last part of life flashed through my mind, the anguish, loss of hope, cruelty, the anger that has kept me upright and your last words .
I love you Chris- I will not forget you……..
The Birthday and those between- Chris Ritchey
Breath of Life – Celtic Knot – Chris Ritchey
This anniversary week , of what used to be love and celebration, has arrived and with it gulping pain. Gulping, because I hold my breath to stop the tears from burning my eyes, blinding me , trying to breathe and all that happens is I gulp for air as the tears flow unabated.
Chris, the day of your birth , as you left me to start a life of your own also found tears , tears of happiness , I gulped and tried to breathe as the contractions became intense , waves of pain then too, but at the end of the pain insurmountable joy. My son, you my beautiful baby boy, put into my arms for the first time.
There were wonderful birthdays that followed but I hadn’t been able to remember them because of your last birthday . Your first and then your last birthday and remembered pain
Once again in a hospital , but I was not surrounded by those that loved me, just clinical cold and vacuous clowns.
https://thatwoman.wordpress.com/2012/08/21/birthday-chris-ritchey-and-the-chris-miss-present/
artwork Chris Ritchey
My whole being was fraught with worry that morning , my insides were shaking and sick with fear, what would they find? My son going under a surgeon’s knife – cutting into your neck to see if the obscenity of the curable cancer had once again beaten the ” treatment”.. I just wanted to go somewhere quiet away from chatter with my thoughts. I didn’t want to be polite. I just wanted peace.
They coffee clutched the time away with their frivolous discussions of fashions, cake , birthdays and celebrations seemingly without thought of how this would affect those that did truly love you ). If there ever was a time where I heard my own grandmother’s voice it was then ” Remember Loraine, breeding will out”
I wanted to scream and shake them as the grandmother decided it would be a good time for a betting game- we were all supposed to pick a time from the time your name came on the big board informing us you were now in the operating room as to how long it would take for you to be under the knife and the time of the surgery .
“Angela, (Ritchey now Murphy http://my.clevelandclinic.org/staff_directory/staff_display.aspx?DoctorID=16147 ) it isn’t fair though you can’t be part of this as being a doctor you would know the answer – giggle, giggle, giggle” Lisa what do you say? Frank? 45 minutes, 55? an hour?
and so it went.
Nikki had excused herself and I was left alone with them. I ignored the game as best I could and tried to ignore them, all the while wishing they were somewhere else – anywhere but there, but the puerile woman would not shut up –
Come on Loraine you must have a guess, join in – otherwise you won’t win! Angela , do we have time to go to the cafeteria – Loraine isn’t it your birthday too in a couple of days – it is Chris’ today isn’t it – will you have a party, what kind of cake, will your mother be baking one or two?
I wanted to reach across the arm of the chair , as she prattled, joined by her granddaughters, and throttle her. I wanted to scream at themShut Up! are you all so damned insensitive you can’t see your imbecilic diatribe is ripping me apart, I don’t care about your nonsensical games , I am in torment that my son will die- can’t you see our pain you stupid,selfish people?
So I haven’t even been given the gift of remembering HAPPY birthday, as the gift I received that last birthday was the gift of death.
https://thatwoman.wordpress.com/2009/08/26/crushed-by-the-calendar-of-cancer/
Surrounded by the clowns of control who carried on their narcissistic thinking and behaviors until the day you died and beyond.
And yet, this week I did receive a gift of you. I don’t know why , then again maybe I do ,but a video tape ( yes a VHS tape) fell out of a bag in the garage, your father, curious, picked it up. None of us can remember how or why the tapes were in the garage of all places – the basement- I could see but why they were in the garage that sits at the end of the garden separate , full of tools and junk is beyond me.
The tape, was of your sister dancing at an event when she was 21. Your dad brought in the bag of VHS tapes and started to play them. There you were, once again, your childhood played out in the pool, on the soccer field , rowing boats , Christmas morning, skiing laughing and loving with us .
I could only watch a little bit at a time as it too caused pain that is indescribable but it affirmed to me the gift of ” her thoughts”- that Nikki and I wouldn’t like) I received from your bride Angela Marie Lombardi Ritchey Murphy ( now remarried )
https://thatwoman.wordpress.com/2014/04/26/the-bliss-of-a-wedding-not-for-me-ritchey-murphy/
you know the “healer” – the words –
Angela by Chris Ritchey
“I think your intense love for Chris shielded you from getting to know who he completely was.
and not forgetting how Dr. Angela ( Ritchey) Murphy wrote 4 months after Chris’s death writing to tell me
my son although he would defend me even when I didn’t deserve it – would put me in my place-
https://thatwoman.wordpress.com/2010/05/06/mothers-day-what-degree-a-mothers-love-and-who-decides/
Angela’s gift of compassion??? so thoughtfully given…..
Yes, as painful as it was to look at my son enjoying his life with his family before those cretans of control and the insidious crew of cruelty and self entered our lives- watching what I could bear to watch of those tapes only reminded me that
I knew my son and he loved us and his place was with us and still should be .
https://thatwoman.wordpress.com/2011/09/03/september-3rd-war-movin-on-hell-truly-is-other-people-chris-ritchey/
My gift to you , Chris is my heart, the truth, and your story, the book I promised to write for you !
https://thatwoman.wordpress.com/2014/07/03/july-3rd-the-story-the-book-chris-ritchey/
and the hope that one day I will be able to look upon your face ……
Heart of Thorns- artwork Chris Ritchey
https://thatwoman.wordpress.com/2010/08/23/who-you-gonna-call/
https://thatwoman.wordpress.com/2011/08/21/birthday-chris-ritchey/
https://thatwoman.wordpress.com/2013/08/21/birthday-chris-ritchey-august-21st-2013/
Kink(s) Culture Shock – Best of British Pt 2
Before I met my “Yank”- because north – south-east or west all Americans were “Yanks” in the British vernacular.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Yankee
http://dictionary.reference.com/browse/yankee
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 😉
So we set off for Sandusky, Ohio- and as soon as I hit the “homestead” of tract houses in Venice Heights-
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………
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
Oct. 3rd – the NON Viking funeral – Chris Ritchey
I have been Roku jumping from one channel to another from histories to murders and the ongoing documentaries of “end of life rituals” from around the world.
End of Life rituals- those rituals to give the dead their honor and due and supposedly give those that mourn some comfort and an outlet for their grief. Those were denied to your family by Tim and Sue Lombardi and their collective family , their daughter Angela of the do over Chris and wedding ritual, the Vyka, Gott, Zaworski, and Gonzales and even the “man of God- Father Daniel Divas . They took any honoring of your name Ritchey and any of our end of life ritual away from your family.https://thatwoman.wordpress.com/2012/06/07/a-memory-of-vipers-chris-ritchey/
They could not take everything though from your aged grandmother , your father , sister, nephew and brother in law. As I was told of Angela’s ( a complete misnomer in that name in my opinion ) decision to withhold you from us and to take you that burying place- not of your faith and a place so intensely disliked by you (after experiencing their ritual of one of their own at that cemetery) and denying the time and place or knowledge of their rites to us . I knew that at least we had to try and I had to try to give to you what I could – to send your body from this dimension with love. Did those cretins of the cremains honestly believe I would let you go without honoring you and being involved in your goodbye? You were and are MY son I gave you life , I loved you in life , in death and now.
As I read the words of denial penned by your “bride” – I remembered the Viking ship. The ship you had to make for a class at LCCC- the brief- a piece of work made with all natural materials sourced from your home – you sat and carved and cut from a log from the wood pile, tree branches from your tree planted as a child, a piece of deer skin found in the garage and scraped down for the sail and finally burning not painting the decoration to add to the dimension.
I knew that Viking Ship which I carried around to college visits when you were transferring from LCCC was the closest thing I could do to give to you to honor the bravery of your fight against that disgusting disease. Your Nana called you her Viking and you were a warrior, so brave, hiding from us your pain. Something to show our love as well- the little England bear purchased from Harrods by you for me when you were returning from soccer in Manchester. I carried that little bear with me in those first dreadful days after you died whilst meanness , selfishness and grief fragmented us beyond all being . It was still damp from my tears.
So as your last journey took you into the flames we did our best to honor you , love you and negate the poison and irreverence shown by others, the items of love from us all- those denied – were with you ……. we still miss you every day and love you more than ever…….
October 2, 2017 at 9:58 pm 2 comments