Among the most terrible things I had to do regarding my daughter was telling her about Christy Harris D’Ambrosio, who died on Tuesday, April 8. Christy was the youth director at our church when my daughter was active growing up in the church. She directed several plays that my daughter participated in, including The Prince of Egypt, Once on This Island, The Lion King, an iteration of Assassins called Shooters, Bethlehemian Rhapsody, a performance using Beatles music, and even a piece that required the kids to write their own content. Christy was also a long-time member of our choir.
When I heard on the Sunday before she died that she was not expected to make it, right after church, I rushed to a parent of another kid who had been in my daughter’s confirmation class. I said, How are you telling your kid? How am I going to tell MY kid, who is in South Africa?
The day after Christy had passed, I tried to set up a WhatsApp meeting with my daughter. It didn’t work, so we communicated on Facebook Messenger, which meant that I couldn’t see her face, just her photo. I spent about 20 minutes discussing almost anything except the news I needed to share with her. When I told her that Christy had died, the first thing she said was “What?”
Christy had been very ill several times in the last four or five years with cancer. Still, she tended to rally and get better. She even made it back into the choir for a brief time. The news was a surprise, yet not. I could hear my the upset in my daughter’s voice and I felt helpless in doing anything about it, which frankly sucked.
Obit, augmented
I’m going to steal from the obit on her Facebook page:
Every February, I play the American versions of the Beatles albums. Why is that? George was the first Beatle to visit the United States when he visited his sister Louise before Beatlemania broke. George’s birthday is in February.
