September 15, 1977 - March 17, 2010
When Christina was born, we were ecstatic. We already had an amazing 4-year-old son, and we gazed with awe and wonder at our beautiful baby girl. Little did we know that the dreams we had for our family were about to change in ways we could never imagine.
Christina met the expected milestones until age 10 months, when she began having seizures. The doctors told us not to worry, but we saw the changes.
Her progress slowed dramatically. She learned to walk, feed herself and talk, although her vocabulary was very limited. She never learned to read or write, but she learned to sing and dance.
I once read that a philosopher, when asked why learning is such a struggle for some children, said something like, "Some children are better at teaching than learning.” That was the case with Christina. She taught us so much more than we were ever able to teach her. She lived a life of unrestrained joy and unconditional love.
Three and a half years ago, the steady, relentless decline began. After many tests and doctor referrals, a neurologist diagnosed Christina with NBIA. The doctor told us what to expect and we were heartbroken.
During the last few years of her life, she suffered severe muscle pain and lost the ability to walk, talk, and swallow, yet she managed to smile every single day.
Her sojourn with us came to an end in March. We don't have words to describe how much we miss Christina, but we are thankful that we have 32 years of wonderful memories to treasure. And, we will always remember the many lessons she taught us about patience, acceptance, courage, laughter and love.
Elizabeth and Wayne Campbell, and Christina's brother, Michael, his wife, Beth, and son Jonah