New York Times Portraits of Grief
Christy A. Addamo was beautiful. She had big dark eyes and brown hair as shiny as mink, which she liked to have her mother, Rita, fix in an upsweep. And smart: she made the dean's list at Queens College, where she got a degree in accounting that led to a job at Marsh & McLennan on a high floor of the World Trade Center.
Brave, too: she loved to travel, to places where she could swim with stingrays. She also liked to be home, learning Italian cooking at her mother's side. She melted chocolate and poured it into umbrella-shaped molds that became lollipops served at her friends' bridal showers. At 28, she had begun thinking about being a bride herself one day. She had a pack of friends, who accompanied her to Yankees games (she liked Paul O'Neill, and saw him and the rest of the team capture the 2000 World Series) and on long walks around the city (she kept a pair of sneakers at the office).
For birthdays and other milestones, she would compose poems. For her parents' 25th wedding anniversary, she and her sister organized a big party. At Christmas, she took the whole family to Radio City for a show.
"Ah," her mother said the other day, remembering. "She was the best."