thoughts of coffee-flavored Haagen-Dazs ice cream

shared by Bret Galeste, her friend from college

December 22, 2009.  We'd still be friends -- and we'd sporadically get in touch for prolonged periods of time, followed by some inactivity before we'd catch up again. I'd have a previously set alarm go off on my phone that goes off exactly once a year, reminding me that it's your birthday. And then I'd call you or text you at the very least, welcoming you to the league of thirtysomethings (I have a feeling you wouldn't be much of a Facebooker, opting instead for genuine interaction with your friends). I'd tell you Happy Birthday and I miss you and that I love you, if I had the courage, though regardless it'd be true.  

I can imagine exactly how it would be if you were still here, well partially because you are, but mostly because you've made such a lifelong impression on me. I look back often on things I wrote after we lost you, and those thoughts -- they still feel so fresh to me. I've lost people before, and I've managed to somehow sever most emotional ties with that person no matter how much I reflect. But with you it's different. Not so much in a heavy, grieving kind of way, but moreso intense joy for having had you in my life and having been so close to you during such a formative time in my life. Yes, your death affected me deeply, but not nearly as much as your life.

Someday, should I be so lucky, I will be blessed with a baby girl - and I will name her Cynthia. I will do everything within my power to love her and show her how to leave a positive impact on her world, just like her namesake. I look forward to having that conversation when she asks me where her name came from. I'll call you my best friend from college, from life in general, because I couldn't honestly say that I've ever had a friend that was better than you. I'd recall our travels and the time you felt so guilty for taking a sample from a delivery of freshly baked croissants in a Parisian hotel lobby. And then this is when I'd tell her where my love of coffee-flavored Haagen-Dazs ice cream came from, as well as the team-building exercises that I do every term with my new students. I'd describe you as "nice" and "kind", two cliched words that never mean more than when they refer to you.

Cindy, Happy Birthday to the most genuine, most thoughtful and kindest soul I've ever known. You were always there, and I hope that you'd say the same of me. You loved so naturally and freely. You lifted me up more times than you knew, and you never judged me. You had this way of making people feel like each and every one of them was the most important person in your life. It makes me sad to think of the great things you would have accomplished in this world, but then I realize that you made all of us better people, and for that, the world will forever be blessed. Happy Birthday! I miss you. I love you.  ~ Bret : )