Posts tagged ‘Sue Lombardi St. Mary’s Lorain’

Lorain Dudes- Holidays Naughty and Nice 2014

dudes Chrismas

It is that time again- Mummy and Nog helped us make a ginger bread train and a gingerbread carousel. Mummy and I did very well on our train
train
BUT NOG and Braedyn – well see for yourself. Although NOG says the supports weren’t right , the icing bag broke and the candy canes were in pieces. I just don’t think NOG can cook!
carosel

But that is OK as Nog takes us to Red Lobster, where we get a special booth away from everyone else and then we go shopping for mummy.
Self
The “elf” dude has been hanging around all over the house but when we went to Florida and Mummy and me and Braedyn went on the roller coasters
2

he stayed home to make sure NOG was being good, apparently she can be very, very bad at times. Braedyn can get into trouble without even trying he broke the drawer but then he fixed it

FullSizeRender
fix it

Even Pooh bah was bad riding MY 4 wheeler when I was in kindergarten
poohbah braedyn

I am good at fishin” though with my Dad – but I don’t want NOG to cook it- she names the lobsters after people and puts them in a pot. I think Santa doesn’t like that….
fundadres

Nana though is always very good –

mumgav

Hope you all have fun and don’t end up in Nog’s Lobster Pot for next year!!!!

lobsteres

December 23, 2014 at 9:24 pm 1 comment

Symbols- Lost and Never to be found -Chris Ritchey

A symbol ( by definition) is something such as an object, picture, written word, sound, or particular mark that represents something else by association, resemblance, or convention. Numerals are symbols for numbers (amounts). All language consists of symbols. Personal names are symbols representing individuals

I never gave much thought to symbols before. I knew they existed flashy cars and great houses- symbols of success – derelict homes, crumbling infrastructure, graffiti symbols of decay – statuary gracing community gathering places – symbols of religion-
necklaces symbols of ones faith or beliefs or wealth on display.

Everything around us becomes a symbol of something – November once a month of joy –
Guy Fawkes, children laughing in the garden as we burned a Guy- roasted potatoes , drank hot chocolate and danced in the dark with sparklers- clinging to a little piece of their heritage in Lorain, a symbol of home.

Thanksgiving past where decorations of Christmas were hung before they could eat the symbol of an American Thanksgiving

A book , whose title ironically enough called the ” The Lost symbol” has taken on for me a different symbolic meaning.

It has become the symbol of a last conflict, love and apology. The book sits upon a portfolio case crafted by my son in his old bedroom- I move it to dust and like some precious treasure it is cherished- this novel of fiction ……

How did this book become so important-
In the post “I didn’t know my son” ( written in response to a contemptible letter)- I told of an argument

But in the hours before that argument came to a head he and I had gone to get his prescriptions- he was tired and in a lot of pain- I said maybe I could pop into Borders ( which was across the way)

I would like to buy the new Dan Brown novel-

I could see he was impatient to get back so I didn’t push it. His mood was dour and his eyes narrowed and lips ( always a sign of anger) were tight. He had been on his cell phone to his wife, Angela, as we waited for his prescriptions. He drove back to the apartment in utter silence . He immediately went out by the pool in the apartment – I could see him sitting not moving. I decided he needed space then Nikki called and said that Chris had hung up on her and was very angry.

“but leave him alone mum” he doesn’t want to talk.

I knew my son ( contrary to at least one persons belief-) I knew whatever it was would fester until he exploded – he was so much like me.

I went to the pool- he said

“I don’t want to talk”

“You don’t have to -you can listen- I need to talk to you”

I was never a crier before Hodgkin’s I was a fighter, a do-er – this blubbering fool that I have become is down to the helplessness and hopelessness that took away happiness. Chris never knew me as a “crier” before his illness – so as the tears fell splashing onto the table he sat silently as I told him

Chris, being a mother of a son is so much harder than you can imagine – I have tried so hard to give you and Angela the space you both need in this terrible time. I KNOW Chris, that you are feeling that you have no control over what is happening to your body and your life- I know you need some control , another reason why I have tried so hard to stand aside- you didn’t need me in the mix as well -But I am going to honestly tell you now -if this had been Nikki and not you I would have handled things so much differently – just as Nikki is my child I would not have sat back and taken a back seat to decisions as I have with you and Angela.

You see when a son marries he brings into his life another woman- it is very difficult in the best of circumstances for a mother to sit back and watch decisions being made that in some cases I did not agree with in a normal situation- this terrible situation we find ourselves all thrust into makes it doubly hard. But I have deferred to you both and to her “medical expertise” with this obscenity of Hodgkin’s that has engulfed us. It has been one of the hardest things in the world for me not to interfere or to put in my two cents. There have been times Chris when I have doubted my own abilities and lost confidence in myself – I have gone against my own gut feelings and yet there is a voice that tells me to still be protective of you .

I have tried to give you both your space – to be there when needed and to shut up for your sake when I was totally against some decisions. I have tried for your sake because I love you so much I would do anything and sacrifice anything for your health and happiness.

I don’t know the reason why you are so angry with Nikki and I but you have to know neither of us would intentionally do anything to hurt you . We have tried to put you first in all our thinking – We love you always have and always will. “

Angela (Lombardi) ritchey MURPHY by Chris Ritchey

With that I left the poolside and went back into the apartment. Chris followed a few minutes later and then it all came out ( as I knew it would) an argument and accusations the finding out of lies that were told

“we had excluded Angela in decision-making as to driving the truck back to Texas.”


After Chris had called Nikki back and they spoke and she confirmed Jim would drive back with him with the truck and that he wasn’t really mad at her just the hopelessness and helplessness he was feeling – he left – I wasn’t sure where and I was worried- he was in so much pain and on so many pills –

A little while later he walked in patted me on the head as a I sat in the chair and handed me a book as he walked to the bedroom – The Lost Symbol

Chris, too has become a symbol of Loss the loss of complete happiness never to be found again . But there will always be a special place for the book “The Lost Symbol” as it is now a symbol to me of a son’s love and understanding as no other book in my life’s vast library.

November 23, 2010 at 10:50 pm 5 comments

An open letter – “Mama Sue” Lombardi


I won’t start this letter with a salutation – I am not sure how to address you .

The days, weeks and months continue to pass after the death of my son, Chris – he was MY SON until the day he died and he still continues to be MY SON. In another time another place You, Sue, and I would not have shared any sort of relationship of that I am sure!

The only things we had in common was “motherhood” , being a “woman “and our childrens’ love of each other .

Now, as the months have passed since my child died , people have become more comfortable in telling me of what exactly happened at the “visitation” at the funeral home and elsewhere.I have come to the conclusion that we don’t even have what it means to be a woman and a mother in common.

There are a couple reasons I did not attend the “funeral home visitation”- planned by YOU and yours.
I couldn’t be part of that , not only because it was not of my culture or creed
( A fact of which both you and your husband were already aware!) Someone needed to be with my grandchild- I saw it as no fit place for an 8 month old.

And to be honest I needed to be with “life” not death in the hours after I watched my son die just hours before.

I needed to hold a child of my blood close in my arms
to stop my heart from breaking altogether.

I could no more have walked up those steps into that room of despair than I could fly- it was not to be borne! I was not strong enough to be on show and also to accept the love of well -wishers – I was and am still too raw.

I still, after all these months, have to get my self geared to meet with people whom I haven’t seen since Chris’ death but you don’t want to hear that or care and I am not making excuses..

Apparently , you took it upon yourself to assail some of the people who came to pay their condolences at the “visitation” planned by you and yours as to MY reasoning for not being there – Sue you said:

“Can you believe it, his own mother isn’t even here! She boycotted the funeral because it wasn’t done her way!”

“You cannot believe what we have had to put up with”

AND

“Yes, she’s an UNNATURAL mother.”

I am perplexed as to your apparent lack humanity and feelings toward those that grieve especially another mother.

You see YOU and yours stood by my son’s bed in his final moments, leaving no room for his own father …. it wasn’t even given to me to look at the face of my husband as our child died but that of YOUR husband.

And HOW he could have looked into my eyes as my son drew his last breath and see what I KNOW he saw in those eyes as I looked up into “HIS face” and then HE enabled YOU and his daughter to take from us our closure sickens and makes me question even his humanity– certainly compassion was and is absent!

My husband , who tried so hard, three times to stay in that place of mourning at YOUR visitation . The prancing about and smiling by your other daughter in front of his son’s photo and no tears shed drove him away , the fact YOU had complained

“what are we going to decorate”


when you found out there would be no casket, sickened him as he gazed on the receiving line of grief as he thought of your concern for decorating as being paramount.

It was more than he could do to stay but he tried – he felt there was no honor in your attitude toward his son.

Your stoney face and holier than thou stance finally took its toll on him – he was brought back home for good. And it seems he was right, as you had other things more important than honoring his son, criticizing and insulting me was first and foremost apparently.

“CAN YOU BELIEVE ……”

E. Munch- 1895


“Death Bed scene”

YOU were there three days earlier as my son’s heart stopped and he drew a last breath.

YOU stood watching ( with what in your heart????) a mother ( whom even your own daughter states had an “intense love” for her son in her notes of destruction) trying to reach through the curtain of death as it drew closed – trying to give a mother’s last comfort to her child – trying to hold back death, almost crazy in her pain of having to say goodbye to her son .

YOU were witness to the most private , personal, poignant and heartbreaking moments between a mother and her dying child.

YOU stood there with your relief ( because it was relief I saw in your face )- a mother’s relief that your daughter wouldn’t have to be dealing with an invalid) waiting and hovering like some black crow over its carrion .

How COULD YOU ? as a mother who watched as another mother saw her child die – the most emotionally terrifying moment any mother can face – the unbearable pain that comes with those final moments as your child slips from this realm. HOW COULD YOU?

After witnessing that moment then HOW COULD YOU? decide 3 days later it is appropriate later to tell anyone who would listen “your thoughts of her as they came to grieve for the child she brought into this world and watched leave –

Of course I now know why your daughter, Angela (Lombardi) ritchey, felt that it was acceptable behaviour for her to send notes with a dead son’s clothes her interpretation of Chris’ thoughts of his family – a vicious trait shared between a mother and daughter perhaps?

If YOU are the epitome of a “natural “ mother, then I thank whom ever made me I was not made in your image.

For all the wrongs I have ever done , all the hurts I may have caused in the lowest of my low moments I would never have sunk as low as to the depths of coldness , cruelty that apparently YOU find acceptable.

Three days after watching a young beautiful son die and his mother’s pain YOUR thoughts were of tearing that mother apart whilst her daughter and mother mourned Chris’ loss -steps away from your vindictive mouthing. .

I am not sure I want to be a “natural mother” if that is what is the definition of your faith and culture .

You can take our closure Sue, your thoughts of appearances , the money and your opinions and lock them in a place where your heart should be because I think it is empty , cold and dark place , both from the stand point of being a woman, a human and a mother.

We are desolate that our son’s earthly remains are locked in a box beneath a ground that heaves with decay and toxicity – surrounded by those not of his kin, but used as a decoration for tacky balloons, plastic flowers and the odd slice of cake, which attracts the earths vermin to this place of supposed repose. This is what the memory of my son has become a platform for balloons and store-bought cake… it disgusts and appalls me – that you and yours celebrate the birth of my son at that place in such a manner and it causes the bile of my stomach to rise in my throat.

NONE of you have a right to desecrate and belittle his memory in such a sickening fashion. You were not part of his birth and I find it abhorrent and insulting to him that you had any rights after his death.

I do not visit this “place” you have deemed worthy of my beautiful child as I find what you and yours have done reprehensible in this world and the next. YOUR need for control outweighs any human compassion – some christian values seem missing in your clan .

May the “Holy Mother ” you worship forgive you for the anguish, pain, and anger you and your child have caused for I will not . If there was such a thing as a “mothers curse” I would lay it at your door for I have found no soul as worthy of execration as you and your fellow cretins of the cemetery.

MY SON– who found your “cemetery carrying ons” sickening and irreverent who is now subjected to them in death when he refused to be part of them in life only has HIS MOTHER to speak for him and I WILL- THAT IS MY RIGHT!!!!

“Nothing should be hidden or untouchable , if it is your truth and you stand behind it – no one should be able to silence you “

Quote Chris Ritchey 2005

Disclaimer :All opinions and perspectives are entirely my own . The story told is what happened to us as a family as a direct result of the actions of the people mentioned here and in previous posts. All posts referencing the events leading up to my son’s death through the current posting have all copies of documentation of statement and witnesses to events on file.

October 14, 2010 at 12:05 am 37 comments

Long time passing- Gone to fighting – Part 6

Part One
Part Two
Part Three
Part Four
Part Five


The last ship my father was on was a hospital ship in Belfast- my mother can’t remember the name – he didn’t have to start the ship or run it – he was there to survive . The injury from the HMS Speedwell caused an ulcerated stomach injury- the ulcer perforated. He was out of the action in 1945.

The day VE day was declared he was in Ireland with my mother- He was 27 years old and had lived through a world of carnage , my mother just 25 had seen more in her young life than most 25 year olds of today could even imagine in their wildest nightmares. Is it any wonder they are called the “Greatest Generation”.

How I wish I could talk to my father- my grandparents – the time wasted – the opportunities missed to talk…..HOW IN WISH I COULD TALK TO MY SON …… those of you that still can – do so !!!!!

My exploration of this tiny part of my son, Christopher’s, heritage made me realize where he got his strength from- because he was strong. He tried valiantly to fight his own private war with the obscenity that is Cancer.

I wish I had the strength I have rediscovered of my parents and grandparents- I always was proud of our heritage – the tenacity of will of my countryman and ancestors.

I was brought up to uphold those principles- but I am lost – the enemy he fought was not of flesh and bone but an enemy without a cause- even an unjust cause.

When my father died – my son purchased a pure white rose-bush and planted it at 5 am in the morning – the time corresponding to my fathers funeral in England that July day. Chris was 11 years old as he planted the bush he had chosen for his grandfather. He checked that rose-bush by the willow tree and garden wall and was incensed when it fell to “poison” by the overspreading of “Round Up” by the “landlord” and tenant next door in that dilapidated house.

Chris was in his teens by then- almost a man – he couldn’t understand the selfishness and control exercised by those that can. He was ready to hoist the landlord up on his own roof.

NOTE – on the old WoM I wrote about my father and Chris’ rose- bush- it seems a lifetime ago- and indeed it was-
An Old Cowboy

I know Chris wouldn’t understand or give countenance to the vindictiveness , destructiveness and pain caused to his own family by that of the extended Lombardi Clan.
<
Had they done what was right by his family part of him would have joined his grandfather -over the sea- and a new white rose-bush would have joined the one planted in perpetuity in that place of his ancestors.

Instead the place where they have locked his last worldly remains has become a place of tacky plastic decoration and they dishonor those that loved , formed and grieve for him as our own wonderful Chris.

Chris’ family , dishonored, by those of supposedly civilised and god fearing people –

the wars that continue throughout this world continue because of greed, a separation of ideology and people who wish to control – is this so different on the large-scale than the smaller. It is people

Yes, thanks to the Lombardis,(Tim and Sue Lombardi – Lorain) their daughter, their family and in my opinion by their acts of greed, cruelty and control toward this family there is no peace.

I am being reassured that I knew my son as I continue this journey just as sure as I am his mother –

BUT thanks has to go to Dr. Angela Marie ( Lombardi) ritchey(now Murphy) http://my.clevelandclinic.org/staff_directory/staff_display.aspx?DoctorID=16147 for starting me out on this quest for without her cruel words unasked for and unappreciated, without her deeds of deceit as mentioned in previous posts I would not be writing this series In search of my son in Search of me.

A mother understands what her child does NOT say

( an old Jewish proverb)

September 25, 2010 at 11:24 am 11 comments


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