Today I discovered that one of my oldest friends, Cyndi Toth, passed away earlier this year. Since returning from Morocco last week, I've been thinking a lot about her because every year on or around our birthdays we would send a birthday card or call each other. This year, while I was in Morocco, there was no birthday email, or upon my return a card.
Cyndi came into my life at just that perfect moment. I had recently turned 16 and was bored with life — I was ready for something, but had no idea what. A few months younger, Cyndi didn't have her drivers license yet, but she did have an idea. The local university's radio station was looking for volunteers to catalogue their record collection. So, off we went. Five days a week in the company of college guys. Life became exciting and our imaginations ran wild. We'd stop off most afternoons "after work" at Friendly's Ice Cream and eat a hot fudge sundae going over the details of the day — what college guys we met, who was cute, what we'd wear the next day. That summer we learned to smoke pot, French kiss, and most importantly for me, I discovered a strategy for getting on with my life and out of Connecticut
One morning, sitting in the university cafeteria, we met a guy who mentioned in passing that his wife had applied for and gotten an early admittance into Bennington College while in her junior year of high school. Brilliant . . . the light bulb went off. By the end of summer I knew my future, just not the details. By Spring, I had accepted an early admittance to Franconia College . . . skipping my senior year and escaping my boring suburban life. Freedom. After graduation from high school, Cyndi briefly moved up to New Hampshire and lived with me before heading off on her own incredible life journey.
Cheers, dear friend . . . may the next stage of your journey be as (if not more) fulfilling!
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