Goodbye to Krista
She was one of a kind
Krista was an affable art major with a sense of wonder and a passion for creating. Of Greek descent, she had silky black hair, big brown eyes, and a beautiful, wide smile. In college, she and I were as good of friends as you could get. We’d have dinner together at the dining hall almost every night.
She talked a lot, I ate a lot. We had a lot of laughs too, as well as deep conversations. I admired her passion for her art studies. It was a natural fit; she was one of those born creators.
When my wife and I were living in New York, we got together with her old roommate and she and I talked about Krista. Krista was supposed to visit, in fact. We wrote each other and arranged to get together. I was excited for the chance to see her and catch up after so many years. She wanted to meet my wife. But life got in the way and our meeting never did come to fruition.
A couple of years ago, I sent her an in-studio collaboration performance of her all-time favorite song, “Jane Says,” and she appreciated that I remembered how much she liked the song. We briefly reminisced about the old days at college. How she walked all over campus with her large art portfolio and “determined walk,” and how I termed one of her art classes “the clay lab.”
