thoughts of in real life

shared by Theresa Navarro, her cousin

We're on the cusp of autumn here in New York, and so many things bring me thoughts of Cyn.

School is back in session, baseball pennant races and football season in full swing, and Pope Francis' historic visit to the U.S. happens this week. I'm sure Cindy and I would be texting each other about all of the above.

I wonder if we would have made time to call, or how clever her social media posts would be. For some reason, I always imagine Cindy would have been a social media guru, since she was such a social connector and director even in the analog world. What do you think her instagram handle would be? Maybe snoopycyn or something like that. 

#IRL (in real life) I meet random people everywhere whose lives she touched. Even guys at parties or bars who try to impress me because they went to UCLA, stop their "wannabe player" ways once I mention Cindy's name. Their respect for her is always genuine and I sense their shame if they think Cindy might disapprove of them hollering at her younger cousin.

This has really happened to me on several occasions, in completely different cities. I would probably have taken a picture with them and tagged Cyn just for fun; I'm sure she would get a kick out of that. 

More than a decade later, I still miss her everyday in subtle and even surprising ways. I try not to freeze her as the gummy-smiled teenager of my childhood. The older I get, the more my idea of her does too. Indeed, my memory of and love for her is very much alive.

thoughts of EveryGoodBoyDoesFine

shared by VJ Rabuy, her sister

The other day, Arlene and I were able to listen to our friend's daughter practice piano. She is seven and she plays quite beautifully. It reminded me of when Cindy and I used to take piano lessons, when she was 12 and I was 10.

In general, I really liked piano. Every time I learned a new song I got more interested and excited to play. The only thing that I disliked about piano was how strict my teacher was; but Cindy didn't seem to mind as much. Cindy and I would practice at least two days a week besides the day of our lesson, and we tried to play all the songs we were learning.

Cindy and I took piano lessons for about ten months or so. But after we went to the Philippines to celebrate my Lola's 80th birthday in 1992, we didn't go back to piano lessons when we came home.

For some reason I also remember, that on the nights we had piano lessons, our mom would get us a Whopper from Burger King to share. Cindy and I shared that Whopper while waiting for the students before us to finish their lessons.

So even though I didn't like my piano teacher much, and we didn't play piano for long, at least I was able to learn to read notes and have fond memories of playing an instrument. And it was another childhood experience I enjoyed sharing with Cindy.