“What a Long Strange Trip It’s Been! In her tie-dyed t-shirts and sandals, with the ‘devil in her eyes’ looks and mischievous smile, Cindy was a singular free spirit, a strong-willed, and hard-headed survivor.”
For readers of this blog and my posts on social media, you’ve been following the journey of our sister Cindy Castro who was diagnosed with Stage 4 Terminal Cancer in March of 2018. She died on January 13, 2019, which ironically was my birthday, reminding me of two things. First, how grateful I am that Cindy was my sister, and second that I was lucky enough to live another year to celebrate the anniversary of my birth. This date will forever be a reminder for me of beginnings and endings, the cycle of life.
Don’t worry readers, family, and friends of Cindy Castro. This is not a maudlin remembrance of a life that ended too soon. Some of us live a l-o-n-g life of mundane moments and routines, while others live a condensed and compressed life, full of adventures, stories that become legendary in the retelling. The latter describes Cindy’s life.
Family and friends gathered per Cindy’s wishes and detailed directions to celebrate her life. We did so in the midst of a Midwestern snowstorm on what would have been her 63nd birthday, on February 17, 2019. My two remaining sisters, Kelly and Tami, planned and executed the party at Infusino’s Banquet Hall in Racine, Wisconsin, an Italian restaurant and banquet destination for weddings and celebrations of life. We gave Cindy the send-off she desired and the party she wanted friends and family to enjoy.
Cindy was born three days before our mother’s 24th birthday. Cindy was the third born child. I’m the eldest, followed by Roz, who is also deceased. Our brother Rick came after Cindy, then Kelly and Tami. Kelly posted on social media that Cindy, Roz, and Mom were eating cake in heaven, celebrating Mom and Cindy’s February birthdays. We also ate cake for Cindy’s birthday, chocolate with chocolate frosting and decorated with a Grateful Dead theme.
Family and friends were encouraged to wear tie-dyed and Grateful Dead t-shirts and the hall was decorated in tie-dyed tablecloths, memorial cards, and even roses. Members of the bands that she followed performed a jam session in her honor with children including her grandniece, Ivy Love accompanying on percussion.
The afternoon featured the melding of Cindy’s family, friends, caregivers, and chosen family. We were able to meet and greet each other and share stories about her and look at the photo boards and video slideshow that captured the many critters that shared her life, the places she lived, and the people she loved and who loved her.
Sisters Kelly and Tami led off the tributes, followed by me and then Cindy’s friends. We also thanked the many people who were her caregivers in Racine and people who contributed to her YouCaring/GoFundMe campaign that supported Cindy in her final months. Following our stories and thanks, we shared an Italian repast of mostaccioli, sausage, meatballs, chicken, potatoes and salad with Italian bread.
Personally, I’d like to thank Cindy’s friends, Leayn and Cheryl, plus Cindy’s many friends who cared for her throughout and at the end of her life, Leayn’s husband, Paul, who took many of the photographs that captured the event and partygoers, niece Casey, who created the video slideshow, and of course my sisters Kelly and Tami and their families who supported Cindy especially the last months of her life and planned and executed her celebration. Lastly, a thank you to my friends, Leanne and Rene who drove my niece and nephew Quinn and Gemma from Madison in a snowstorm so they could join us for the day.
One of Cindy’s final requests and actions in life was to request partygoers to flash the hippie peace sign, “Peace Out!”
Here’s the tribute that I shared at Cindy’s Celebration of Life.
Tribute to My Sister Cindy on Her Birthday, 02-17-2019
Hello everyone. Cindy would be pleased that you’re all here, celebrating her life and partying together. For those of you who don’t know me, I’m Linda, Cindy’s eldest sister. I was there from the very beginning of her story and present near the end of her life. I remember the day she was born. My sister Roz and I were staying at my Grandma Holly’s home, while Dad was at the hospital with Mom and newborn Cynthia Lynn Lenzke.
Cynthia Lynn Lenzke was born on February 17th, 1957, three days before my mother’s 24th birthday. She was my parent’s biggest baby and born breach, certainly an omen of things to come; Cindy never did anything like other people — or as expected — she always did it her way.
Roz cried when she learned that she had another sister. She wanted a baby brother, so Grandma, who was a wonderful storyteller, concocted a fairy tale about the baby inventory available in heaven. I can’t share the story here, but Roz accepted the explanation. For a brief time, we thought maybe we had the wrong baby. She had a very ruddy complexion and tufts of thick almost pitch-black hair.
Our parents had three sets of children in pairs, each child in the pair separated by one or two years, each set by about seven. The first baby in each set was an oops baby (not planned for but loved) and the second of each pair, a planned playmate. 18 years separated the eldest child, me, from the youngest, my sister Tami. In order of birth, the Lenzke children are: Linda, Roz, Cindy, Rick, Kelly and Tami.
Many of Dad’s friends and family would remark before Cindy was born, “Maybe you’ll finally get your son.” He didn’t, but never for a moment did he regret that. He spoiled Cindy when she was a baby, in fact, he would rock her when he sat in his chair as she laid on his legs, he’d sway back and forth until she fell asleep.
Mom and Dad even gave up their bed for her. She didn’t like her bassinet and would cry. Cindy was never afraid to express her feelings, right from the beginning of her life. They’d put pillows on either side of her so she wouldn’t roll over or fall out bed.
Cindy was baptized on St. Patrick’s Day a month after she was born. It was a high honor in our Irish Catholic, German, and Dutch family. Of course, like today there was a big party for her.
Dad’s mother, Cindy’s Grandma Lenzke, gave Cindy her first nickname, “China Doll.” Cindy’s ruddy complexion turned porcelain white and her pitch-black hair became thick auburn waves. Grandma Lenzke and Cindy’s Great Grandmother, Grandma Flanigan, collected porcelain dolls and figurines. Mom and Dad would dress Cindy up when visiting the Grams and she resembled one of those China dolls.
Cindy however, was never prim and proper like a doll. She was more comfortable in jeans and t-shirts and in later years, colorful dresses, tights and clogs. She was never afraid to cut loose and have fun. “Lady-like” was not a descriptor you could apply to her. She would get her hands dirty digging in her plants or garden, and feeding and caring for her many animals which over the years included many dogs, cats, birds, a llama, burrow, horses, goats, boa constrictor (rabbits, food for the snake), black widow spiders and more. She also worked with her hands her entire life.
When Cindy was a child, she was very impish, creating mischief and fun whenever the opportunity arose. I won’t share all the highlights of her childhood exploits, but this story captures her playful spirit for me.
Mom went back to work full-time and my sister Roz and I were old enough to babysit Cindy and Rick during the day in the summer when our parents worked. We tried to put Cindy and Rick down for a nap but were not always successful. One nap time, Roz and I were surprised that when every car passed our house, they honked their horn. We lived on a corner, one side of the house faced a busy street. Once Roz and I stepped outside and walked around the corner, we discovered the cause of all the attention. Cindy had opened the window screen, pulled down her pants and was mooning every car that drove by, much to the delight of the occupants.
As Cindy’s eldest sister, I sometimes have to take responsibility for some of the choices she made later in life. In 1969 when I was 19-years-old, I had my first apartment on 6th Street in Downtown Racine. Full Disclosure (Dad, close your ears), I was a hippie. My roommates and I hosted our friends from UW-Parkside and the kids that gathered at the Leather Shop down the street. One day, Cindy, at the age of 12 came to visit unannounced when she was staying at our Grandma Lenzke’s 7th Street apartment around the corner.
When Cindy walked in the door, Janis Joplin and Big Brother and the Holding Company was blaring at full volume and my friends and I were sitting in a circle smoking weed from a hookah. We didn’t share a toke with Cindy, but needless to say the experience left an indelible impression on her. There were many times when she was a young adult and before I got sober and in recovery that we did get high together.
As littermates, Cindy I could tangle with each other too. Since I was the eldest and she the middle child and family rebel, we could push each other’s buttons. I’m grateful however that when Cindy had conflict with our parents in high school, I represented the family at her high school graduation, and that Mom and I attended her wedding to Joe Castro in Albuquerque.
At the end of her life, I was able to make amends to her for the one story she loved to tell and hang over my head. When we were young kids, I stole chocolate chip cookies that Mom had made and put in the basement freezer for a future date. When it was discovered that half the container of cookies was missing, I offered Cindy my allowance if she took the rap for me. She did. Since there was a seven-year age difference, she never let me forget that I took advantage of her young age. I promised her in addition to my apology, I would make her a batch of chocolate chip cookies, freeze them, and deliver them to her. She didn’t live long enough to enjoy those cookies, but the night before she died, I promised her I’d deliver them to Tami’s house for her and Tami’s family to enjoy. I will keep that promise and deliver those cookies.
I’m grateful that Cindy was my sister. As you can see, I’m wearing black which I do most days. Cindy added color to my life. One of her final gifts to me was the rainbow jewelry I’m wearing today made by her friend Leayn. I also have one of her Christmas cacti which I hope will bloom in her memory next Christmas, and lastly, a rooster from her collection. When family and friends packed up her apartment, they gave away many of her things to her family, friends, and chosen family per her wishes.
I was able to be with Cindy the night before she died and I said my goodbye.
I was also able to choose my rooster which the next day when Tami and Ron hosted an impromptu wake for her at their home, Ron brought out the remaining box of roosters to share with friends, and someone said, “Here’s Cindy’s box of cocks.” Cindy would have appreciated the humor and the laughter that we shared along with the tears and the stories we told that day, just like today.
Cindy died early in the morning just after midnight on January 13th, my birthday. I will forever celebrate my birthday that day and also remember Cindy’s death — and the gift she was in my life.
Cindy’s Video Slideshow Tribute
Peace Out!
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