My Friend Cindy

I've been trying to decide what I wanted to say about my friend, Cindy. She's so vibrant and fun and genuinely caring. It's so unfair that she's gone from our lives so quickly.

I came back from Cindy's funeral on Sunday night. She, along with the rest of my college friends, still lives on the east coast, so I rarely see her. Actually I think it's been a meager 4 times this decade. My day to day life could go on unchanged. We didn't talk on the phone and we barely emailed. But when we got together it's was as if we'd never gone separate ways. Our little group easily meshed back together even though years pass between meetings.

Since we don't see each other regularly it hardly seems like it's real that she's gone. Mostly I feel the loss when a flash of something she'll never get to do comes to mind. But after seeing the bazillion people at her funeral who were sincerely touched by knowing Cindy, I am somewhat comforted by the fact that she is without a doubt the one person I know who absolutely lived life to the fullest.

If we are to believe everything happens for a reason the only reason I can figure is that this experience of losing her is supposed to be a catalyst for the rest of us to get our heads out of butts and enjoy every minute that we have with the people that we care about doing the things that we care about.

In Cindy's honor I plan to make every effort to be without regrets and not sweat the small stuff and not waste time on meaningless bunk that we seem to let overtake our lives. I know none of my Washington friends who read my blog know Cindy. I'm sorry you missed out on that opportunity. I urge you to think about what changes you need to make. If you were to die next Tuesday would you be happy with how you spent your weekend?

Do you think this new philosophy could include never washing another bathtub?