|Dad and Christina.|
How can that even be?
Christina was one of my father's favorite aides at the Assisted Living facility where he lives. She worked in Memory Care and she took such good care of him. We loved her for that. When she took another job because it paid better, we were sad to see her go, but wished her well. How could we not? She had treated Dad with such gentleness, such caring.
She had been so kind to us, too, my sister and I. And she made us laugh. I'll never forget the time she told us about Dad asking her, this beautiful young woman of color, if she were a slave. (It was the Alzheimer's talking, and she knew that.)
"I told him, 'No, Harold, I'm a free woman'," she said with a laugh. "And it made your Dad so happy."
And now she's gone.
Gone? How, in God's name, is that even possible?
I need answers, but there are none. Only a deep sense of loss...and tears.
Christina was young (only 23), vibrant, full of life. I wish I had one last chance to tell her again how much her kindness to my Dad meant to us, how much easier she made it because we knew she was looking out for him.
I hugged her the last time I saw her. I hope she knew how very much I meant it. I hope, whatever she suffered at the end, she's now at peace.
You will be remembered, Christina, with gratitude and love. Thank you.