In Loving Memory of
Kristina Nickole Holt
March 9, 1984 - March 28, 2003

Kristina with her sister Vanessa and her brother Andre. This was my Mother's Day gift from them in 2001. Kristina loved her brother and sister very much. She taught them alot.
Mostly they learned from her mistakes.

Kristina's model pose in 2001.

These five very special gifts for Angel Kristina are from my friend Marie.
You can visit her website for her son Rob here ~ Rob Northrop's Site.

These are four beautiful and loving gifts for Angel Kristina from my dear friend, Carol, mom to Angel Michael.

The Line That Divides Me

It goes from the flat planes through the hills to where it is flat again. It cuts through me like a chainsaw. Trying to stop, it slides down until finally all that it leaves are two pools that lay still. It is the wax on a plate after the candle burns. It just stays where it is showing signs of having been melted. It is parted yet solid. It is me. The beauty, which comes to life like an animated cartoon, shows in the sacred pain that comes from it. It burns as a single flickering flame mocking
and taunting me as smoke shadows a fire put out by water.

I am torn by it. I ache for it to vanish like a ghost in the night. Still, it holds me together like love keeping too people from parting. This mark is as powerful as the Nile River as it flows with its mighty current down my chest. Like a mirror it presents a vision as strong as our countryís flag. Hardship and surplus both show their faces. It is horrid and disgusting as it tears into me, melting as if itís a house burning only half way down. When you try to rebuild it, it only looks covered up. The beauty and strength that comes out of it is like the first spring flower using all of itís strength and all of its might to sprout up and bloom out of the snow on the last day of winter. There is a softness of a babyís cheek combined with the strength and powerful sea crashing
and pulling at the land far below the cliffs that illuminates from it.

The scar that is placed down my chest is such a wondrous thing! Like a mask, it covers my pain and my pleasure. Its touch is a comforting as a warm cup of cocoa and a good book on a stormy day. It is the magical line, which keeps me in the world of the living and protects me like a knight from the world of the dead. Each imperfection of this scar is just a looking glass into lifeís hardships that I have over come with the help of other people who contain the love
and knowledge to help me.

If my scar could paint you a picture of its life inside and out the emotions it would show would be too much for one to handle with out letting tears roll down his face and drip to the floor. It was the clearness of a motherís joy suffocated by the plastic bag of despair when she found out her new baby might soon live no longer. There was so much trouble lying beneath the skin as I was cut into her. The heart was pumping into nothing with no tubes to carry the blood. It was a time of joy and a time of fear. People were everywhere like on a crowded street in a large city where you canít walk with out someone bumping into you. Some of them were frantic and some of them were fearful and desperate for help. All of them had one thing in common: they all wanted to save the life of the premature new born baby girl. They put me there to tattoo the word life onto her so she could never forget the lucky chance she was given. It would be remembered every time she looked in the mirror, and forgotten every time
she ran down the field during touch football.

Your thumbprint can do a powerful thing. It is unique to you as my scar is to me. No other person in the world has the same one as you, and there is nobody who can look in the mirror and see the same scar I can. Each one of us has a special feature that they love and one , which they hate. My scar is the feature that I love, but it is also the feature that I hate. It depicts for me the blackness of death and the bright sunrise of life.

In little whispers like the wind makes when blowing through the trees. I hear the story my scar tells. It lets me in on little secrets that some people will never know and others take years to figure out. I have had six open-heart surgeries and with every one I was reminded that life ifs full of chances and you have to choose which ones to take. The doctors took a chance with me and gave me my life. It is the best gift I could have been given, and I am lucky enough to have the love, knowledge and beauty of mankind tattooed down my chest. It is a constant reminder
to take care of others and the world I got a chance to live in.

By Kristina N. Holt

Kristina posing again, this time in 2002.

Kristina just goofing around....

Kristina in 7th grade.

The mention of my child's name
may bring tears to my eyes,
But it never fails to bring music to my ears.
If you are really my friend,
let me hear the music of her name!
It soothes my broken heart and sings to my soul!
~ Author Unknown ~

Kristina Nickole Holt.

She was named after her uncle Christopher who was her daddyís brother and her uncle Nick who was her mommyís brother, both who had passed on before her. Kristina came into
the world. As a surprise at 6 weeks early. Delivered by ďCĒ section.

She was a beautiful 5 pound 18 in. long baby girl. No signs of problems, lungs were mature all was good. Then about 9 hours after her birth Kristina started turning blue. A cardiologist was called in and the doctors found she had a sever heart defect. Teratology of Fallot with VSD. The hospital didnít carry the medication that was desperately needed to keep her alive in Santa Cruz, Ca. So a CHP transported the medicine from a hospital about an hour away,
it was touch and go waiting for that med.

Kristina was immediately taken to a hospital 2 hour away "Stanford" her grandparents followed the ambulance to the hospital, I had C section and could not leave the hospital. Her father
was scared and nowhere to be found. There she would stay for the first 8 weeks of her life.

I was met up with a women here in town with her own child at Stanford and was able to ride with her every day for visits, we would leave at 7am and return about 3pm. I would get to
nurse Kristina while there. Soon the doctor allowed me to drive myself.

Each day I would pump my breast into sterile bottles and each evening my husband would drive it up to our uncle who worked near the hospital and he would then drive it to the hospital for Kristina. Then again the next day we would start over, I would drive up to Stanford, visit, get new sterile bottles, pump and drive to uncles. We did this for 8 weeks.
Thank you Uncle Teeny.

Kristina was having her first surgery at 6 week, 6 Ĺ pounds. The surgery was putting in a cortex shunt; it was small but would give Kristina time to grow.

Kristina was able to come home at 8 weeks. I remember driving her home, I could hardly keep my eyes on the road I was so happy and couldnít stop looking at her. Kristina was a happy easy baby; she looked so small in her cradle. She thrived and grew and grew. At about 1 year and half her anatomy had grown and she was out growing the shunt. Kristina had her second surgery in September of 1985. She thrived and grew and again had her third surgery in July of l987. She was happy and could do just as all other children you would have never know
she was sick except if you saw the scars.

Then once again at age 5 yrs, l989, she had her 4th surgery this lasted about 2 years. I remember Kristina was to start kindergarten shortly after surgery and the doctor said only if I were with her for the first few weeks. So I went to school with her every day to make sure
no one pushed her or hit her with a ball accidentally.

This is Kristina all dressed up for Easter, at age 7. Isn't she just adorable?

Both of these photos are of Kristina with her brother Andre, from 2001.

And her 5th surgery was for a homograph from a cadaver. It was from an adult and should last her 20-30 years. Well sometimes bodies reject and sure enough Kristina started to reject it about 2 years later. At age 16 Kristina went in and had another surgery. This we hoped would be the very last one. This was her sixth surgery.

Kristina and one of her best friends, Erika, in the 8th grade.

Kristina was growing into a beautiful young woman. She went to high school dances, had great friends, a wonderful boyfriend, got her driving license, had herself a nice car, good job. She graduated from high school and was planning on going to college to become a nurse or
an echo tech., which was surprising for many because she wasnít that fond of hospitals, smile.

Kristina in the summer of 2002. Her hair is growing out. She shaved it in May, just for fun, silly kid!

Then some time in late 2001 and in the beginning of 2002, she started getting a lot of colds. Then in 2002 she started feeling tired, lost a bit of weight slept a lot. The doctors ran test but couldnít find anything wrong. She would sleep days at a time and then be fine days at a time. We just thought maybe she was just a young teen over extending herself.

Kristina and Erika, Halloween 2002.

Then in March of 2003 she had her 19th birthday.
She had a small party with friends, all was good.

She did have a cough/cold but we thought it was nothing out of the norm. Then March 27th 2003, I came home from work to find her on the couch breathing abnormal. I took her to her doctors and they immediately admitted her to the hospital. She was put on ventilators and test after test were taken. It wasnít looking good. Her dad and I stayed with her into the night until about 1am before going home, she had stabled so we felt it was safe to go. I phone the hospital twice in through the night, they reassured me she was ok. The next morning March 28, 2003 her dad and I went back to the hospital. She was still on the ventilator but was breathing more on her own. And conscious, I said hi Kristina, itís mommy can you squeeze my hand and she did with a good squeeze. I was so happy tears of joy ran down my face.
We thought she was going to be ok.

This is Kristina on Thanksgiving of 2002.

Then about 12:30pm she went into heart failure. But thru CPR they were able to get her back. We were so relieved. At 1:30pm she turned her head towards me opened her eyes and looked at me for the last time. Her heart failed again and the doctors couldnít get her back again.
It was over; my darling daughter had died right there in my arms.

Kristina with her mom and her sister Vanessa on Christmas 2002.

Kristina had been a fighter her whole life and she fought right up to the end. She had a wonderful full 19 years, gave many memories to all that know her, she always smiled and was always such a giving person. The doctors insisted on an autopsy against my wishes
and found that she had stage 4 hodgkins lymphoma, that we didn't even know she had.

Benjiman's Site Map

Oh and dolphins, Kristina collected dolphins, loved them.
On the temporary headstone I made for her I put dolphins.

Sometimes when you're feeling stuck,
It's hard to stay.
You kind of just want to leave, not try anymore.
It seems that life's not the way.
There's nothing you can do,
if you aren't willing to try,
willing to see it through.
But if you try,
You'll see what you can really do,
What life can really be.
Written by Kristina N. Holt, 6/6/01

My Life
By Kristina, 2002

Life begins and ends with me. They way I see the world, and the way I present myself to others defines my life. Even when I don't intend to, I am showing my views, and my thoughts.
The way I wear my hair (long and tall) defines my life. I stand tall and proud.

Kristina had many things written and taped on her walls. These are some of the sayings
she had up. They were cut in collage style
but they were to lite for scanning so I am typing them to you ~

ME: My most important realization: All I need is me, Everything else is extra! smile

ME: my best friends- Erika,Rosann,Donna

ME: My Favorite:
Color - Pink
Activities- Kissing,Reading,Dancing,exercizing,Writing.
Smell: Aspen
Song: "How come,How long",by Babyface.

ME: My First:
Kiss- Shaun Dilts
Love- Dylan Dickie
Word- Kitty cat

Me: MY fears,My thoughts,My life,My feelings, My actions, My friends, My activites, Just Me.

ME: My Most:
Proud Feature: My Scar

Kristina was such a beautiful person. When I started learning American Sign Language, she was all about 6 yrs old and she wanted to learn right along with me. She wrote peoms, she drew many pictures of dresses. At one time she thought that she might become a designer. Most of her hobbies were reading and writing, I have shared some of her writings with you. One of these writings her heart surgeon encouraged me to try and have published.
Oh she was such a beauty!

Pink, that was her favorite color, her purses were pink, shirts,
she even had pants, shoes pink, anything pink. She loved pink.

Kittyholt, that was her stuffed kitty she had since her papa 'grandfather' gave her at her 1st birthday. Kittyholt went to every surgery, thru every operation with her. Kittyholt had her own hospital bracelet aound her neck on hospital stays. Kittyholt was part of the family. Even Kristina's close friends know about Kittyholt. We put Kittyholt up at the altar for the service and you could hear whispers through the church "there is Kittyholt." We thought about
keeping her but decided to bury her with Kristina. I am glad of that.

For awhile in 7-8th grade she played flute, but it bothered her wrist so she had to give it up.
I remember how she would bring her flute along on our camping trips and sit out under the trees
with the birds and play the flute.

Of course Kristina loved talking on the phone. That girl always had a phone in her ear.

And she loved to be driving fast cars, but she was always the one people would call if they had been drinking and need a ride. Designated driver. She loved trying the highest rollercoaster,
or anything daring, not like her old mom... I'm a chicken, like to keep on the ground.


Since Kristina's favorite singer was Baby Face, the song we chose for this page
is I'll Always Love You, sung by Baby Face.
Thank you so much to Ken's mom, Lynn, for helping me find this song.

Kristina, Donna, Erika in the summer of 2002... they were best friends since kindergarten.

Dearest Kristina

In the time that you were here on earth, after reading what your Mom has put on your site, she was very proud of you,
and I agree with her. Your brother and sister learnt from you, good or bad, they will carry that, and be thankful to you
for the rest of their lives.
You loved Dolphins, which means you loved animals, and that is great, you graduated,
the photos of you modeling were beautiful, you would have made a great one.
But the one thing about you Kristina, you were a fighter, and that is something to be proud of, I am.


Dearest Ramona

Mom I am your ANGEL
That now lives up above
Mom I haven't left you
Every day I send you my love

I know you can't see me
And that really hurts you
But I am with you every day
So please don't feel down and blue

One day we will all be together
But you must not keep asking
Just like me I had done my time
Only GOD knows
And in HIM you must believe


In Loving Memory of Lee Henry Aguilera

Dear Kristina's Mom
Your sweet daughter has touched me. She lived a beautiful and full life and I'm sure she taught many people the best way to live. She is a child that any mother would be very proud to have in this life
and in the next. I honor Kristina today, her birthday, and may she rest in the Lord.
Ann, Laurasmom

Our little pink angel,
who peeks out of those small windows of heaven,
that we call stars, and sends us her love.
Forever in our hearts where your memory
and your sweetness will be kept forever until we meet again.

With Love and In Memory of Your Sweet Kristina
Ann, Laurasmom

In Loving Memory of Laura Ann Kimble

Thank you to my wonderful friend, Rosemary, for all your help
with some of the photos for Kristina's page. And thank you also to my dear friend, Joyce,
for creating many of the name tags for Kristina's page.

A friend can hear a tear drop.

This webpage is created
In Loving Memory of Kristina Nickole Holt

on January 29, 2004
Last updated: March 28, 2017
© 2004 - 2017

Maria's Tribute to Christopher