You may have noticed that the Serotonin molecule on this website’s banner has been sad instead of happy these past few days, and that is because Cynthia was among the first folks who made me believe in this blog and persist in writing it. She helped make what this blog is today, and I owe a lot to this magnificent human being who I had the honor of knowing and being friends with.
I remember meeting Cynthia in my first year at AUB. We’d both be in the “cafet” and she’d sometimes join the table I’m sitting on, or vice versa. Perhaps her first impression of me wasn’t the best one, as I met her while teasing Paty. Perhaps that impression never really changed, as I was always there to tease Cynthia and poke fun at her and she always took it in good spirits and joined in the fun, calling me “petit gi” when I was obviously morbidly obese… And that was when the “best hugs ever” were given, and I will sorely miss those heart-felt, warm bear-hugs.
In fact, she was always extremely happy and seeing her made me extremely happy too. I know people tend to say that about everyone who passes away, but Cynthia’s smile really, really, really radiated positivity everywhere and with everyone. She was that face you’d search for once getting to AUB in hopes you can have a man2ooche together before class…
I’d invite Cynthia everywhere, but she rarely made it. Sometimes she’d disappear for a few weeks, but then return as vibrant and vivacious as ever. No one thought twice, at least I know I didn’t, and the news of her death was one I had never expected to hear.
Being so far away made me all the more aware of what this means. Being unable to attend the memorial services and tributes or see her other friends and her family, made me reflect on what Cynthia meant to me and all the good memories she left behind.
I knew Cynthia as a classmate and fellow cafet-goer (albeit a frenchie =P). I knew Cynthia as an active scouts member and would revel in seeing her come to the General Assembly at my old school. I knew Cynthia as a committed volunteer in DSC, where she’d be wearing a red t-shirt and getting folks to donate and support. I knew Cynthia as the ideal friend one could have: genuinely caring, always happy and selfless when you need her.
There are no words to describe how devastated I was to hear the news. But, I do know I respect her now more than ever before (if that’s even possible) for living life in a way that would make you jealous of how happy she was. Not jealous in a bad way, but amazed at how good life could be and how perfectly you could embrace it.
I’ll stop now, and instead let you read and experience both her thoughts, interactions and tweets, as well as her friends thoughts and feelings about her. Her last comment ever was “<3 <3″ a perfect representation of who she was, and her cover photo, eerily reads “No music, no life” which makes me wince every time I see her photo singing at the top of her lungs, with the flatline and “no life” next to it…
I extend all my love to everyone back home and wish I was there with you all…
With my deepest condolences, but extreme gratitude for having had Cynthia in my life,
Le Petit Gi’