For Cynthia

Words and photo by F LoBuono

Magic only works if you believe that it does.

Let me give you an example.

Here's the backstory:

I have a dear friend who had been stricken with a very rare and aggressive form of cancer. Her chances of survival beyond 2 years were slim at best. As things were turning out, her condition took a decidedly bad turn for the worst over the last few weeks, leaving her health severely compromised. In fact, she was dying. It was time to come to terms with that.

I met Cynthia Imperatore when we were both so very young and innocent - or, at least she was. I was 23, fresh out of college, and a rebel without a clue. She was just turning 18, beautiful, spiritual, so incredibly smart, and entering her senior year of high school - a Goddess in training. We eventually became lovers in every sense of the word. The world was ours and we explored it fearlessly. We made love freely, read existential poetry, and listened to Bruce Springsteen. Baby, we were Born to Run. And, in the beginning, it seemed that, perhaps, we would spend our lives together. However, as is often the case with young lovers, we could not sustain that level of intensity. Besides, there was so much growing to do independently before we could make that kind of commitment to one another - Cynthia was still in high school! So, we ultimately went our separate ways. However, our relationship lasted in various forms for over 40 years.

After our initial foray into coupling proved unsuccessful, Cynthia left for the West Coast and never looked back - at least for the greater portion of her adult life. I went to work here in NY to build a career in television. The breakup was not smooth and, despite my best efforts to keep in touch, she spent many years avoiding me. But, I wouldn't quit her. I just couldn't. There was something between us that I simply could not let die. We had this special, intuitive connection that often went beyond words. Perhaps, we couldn't be lovers, but there could still be love between us in one of its many forms. I spent decades trying to find it. All I really knew was that I wanted her in some capacity in my life. So, from time to time, I would try to re-establish contact with her - mostly unsuccessfully.

Despite my efforts, I had pretty much lost touch with her until about 5 or 6 years ago and the emergence of Facebook. I was scrolling down the day's thread when I noticed her name associated with a drawing of a mermaid. I knew that water and swimming were always a big part of Cynthia's life (hence, the mermaid) and responded simply by saying "I see it", not really expecting any kind of response. Well, she surprised me by actually writing back! Apparently, she had returned to the East Coast to care for her dying mother.

After a tentative campaign of back and forth Facebook messages, we finally decided to meet in person. Again, keeping with the water theme, I asked her to meet me by the river in Nyack. Our reconnection was virtually instant and VERY powerful. The old mystique which had bonded us in the first place was back. It was almost as if the years of animosity and distance between us simply faded away and we were young lovers once again.

At the time, I was still married but the marriage was floundering. So, this rush of intense feelings had me contemplating having a full blown affair with Cynthia. And, we came damned close to consummating our renewed relationship. However, I felt guilty and cheap. Much to her disappointment, I felt that I needed to try and rekindle that feeling in my marriage first. Well, I did try but it didn't work. My wife and I soon split anyway. So, it allowed me to pursue Cynthia, full time, and we became traditional lovers yet once again.

In the beginning, we had great passion for one another and both of us felt that, perhaps, we WERE destined to be together, finally. It was a more mature version of the desire we had experienced as wild kids. However, with time, MY hunger to continue our relationship on the path it was taking faded. I felt that I would have to change too much of myself to give her the type of rapport and support she so desperately wanted and deserved. For as much we had in common, we had some glaring differences. We decided to break it off - again! Of course, it was more my doing than Cynthia's. She never wanted anything but the best for me. However, in the end, it doesn't matter who initiated the separation. The end result is the same.

Cynthia took it badly (who could blame her), claiming that I only used her to soften the blow from the loss of my marriage. This, in my mind, was not the case. It was much more complicated than that. However, I had hurt her and she cut me out of her life once again, presumably for the last time.

Until recently.

I found out a few months ago about her cancer and the terminal nature of it. I so wanted to be with her to fight it but she had made it very clear that she wanted no part of me. And, I respected that until there was no time left to allow anger to linger - her's or mine. She was dying. I simply did not know how to work back into her life. Then, my sister intervened. We had heard that Cynthia was in very serious condition in one of the local hospitals and might not survive for very much longer. So, my sister, also Cynthia's friend, decided to visit her at the hospital and broach the subject. Much to my relief and pleasure, she agreed to see me.

My sister emphasized how serious Cynthia's condition was and urged me to get to the hospital as quickly as possible. And, so I did. 

I found that the urgency was well warranted. She was hooked up to all manner of emergency medical equipment, beeping and hissing. Oxygen was being pumped up her nostrils. Of course, it was shocking. But, I was glad to see that she was far from alone with family, including her brother and sisters, and some close friends crowding the small room.

When it was my turn for an intimate moment, I sat as close as I could to her bed, reached for her hand, and stared into her eyes. As soon as I did, the gravity of her situation was exacerbated. She had lost a tremendous amount of weight. Her dark hair which once flowed like root beer was cropped short and pure white. And, she had fear in her eyes - fear of uncertain future. It was almost the look of terror. I peered so deeply into those eyes, hoping that she could see through mine, into my very soul, and witness the deep and abiding love I had for her - and always would.

I whispered in her ear not to be afraid and to trust in the Goddess for strength. I grabbed her hand as tightly as I could as if to lend her the strength from my own body. Of course, I told her that I loved her - still and forever. She gazed deeply into my eyes and in a barely audible voice asked, "why didn't you CHOOSE me?" I replied that the fault was not within her but, rather, within me. In a whisper she uttered the words I so longed to hear; "I forgive you."

I spent about another hour at her side until I felt that she needed rest more than company. I left her with these words: "Thank you for loving me. Thank you for forgiving me. And, thank you for allowing me to spend this sacred time with you." Then, I caressed her cheek, kissed her on the forehead and left, not knowing if I would ever see her again. It was both terrible and wonderful. Terrible because she was suffering, but wonderful because we had made peace.

Cynthia did survive the night and was eventually transferred to her brother's house under Hospice care. However, her situation remained dire. Doctors hoped for some type of miracle but the reality was she was actively dying.

I was able to visit with her 2 more times there and she did show marked improvement. For my first visit, most of the tubes had been removed as was the oxygen from her nose allowing her to converse more freely. Her voice was more relaxed and intelligible. Also, mostly absent was the terror I had seen in her eyes the night before. She was still fighting but I sensed a certain release, as well. She knew how ill she was and was coming to terms with the fact that her time on this earth was growing short. It was also obvious that the overwhelming amount of love and light that was being heaped upon her was giving her the strength to continue and, if necessary, to pass through.

I returned for another visit the next day and again found Cynthia to be resting and not in any major distress. However, it was becoming more apparent that she was not just tired, she was weary. The fight, with no good end in sight, was starting to take its toll. She explained to me that she was willing to battle this disease just as long as there was a chance to beat it. It was becoming more and more evident that all the fight in the world could not overcome what was to be her fate.

Because she was so exhausted, I did not stay long. I told her again that I loved her, kissed her on her cheek and said I would visit again - as long as she would have me. However, I also knew that every time that I said good bye it might be for the last time.

Her sister informed me via text message the next day that Cynthia had a difficult night and that it might be best that I not visit that day in order for her to get as much rest as possible. She also let me know that I should be prepared to lose her at almost any moment. Knowing the gravity of her situation, I had already prepared myself to here those words - she's gone. Still, it took my breath away.

That night, I got more bad news - my sister called me to tell her that her little dog, Harley, the light of her life, had passed after a short illness. She was devastated. I did my best to take all that was happening in stride. It was all so overwhelming. 

When I woke the next morning, I was not feeling all that well. Obviously, the stress was starting to take its toll. And, I sensed that something was very wrong. There seemed to be a rift in the Cosmos. I told myself that this too shall pass.

I decided to go out to my porch to greet the day. When I did, I noticed that 2 tiny fledgling sparrows had fallen from the nest they occupied in one of the bathroom vents in the apartment adjacent to mine. They were still alive and chirping away. I wasn't sure exactly what to do except find a ladder and try to return them to their nest and hope for the best - at least I could give them a chance.

It was at the very moment that it struck me - 2 birds were out of the comfort of their nest. And, in my heart, I knew what it symbolized: Harley, my sister's dog was already gone. Cynthia was now, too! I FELT the very MOMENT she had left us. I just KNEW it in my heart of hearts. About 10 minutes after that, I got a text message from Cynthia's sister that she had indeed passed a bit earlier that morning. Her sister told me that Cynthia died peacefully in the arms of people she loved and who loved her. There would be no more pain or fear.

And, I wept - deeply.

So, you might ask, where's the magic in that? Well, it all depends on your perspective. From mine, it symbolized a sacred connection - one that transcend time, space, and even language. It is an intuitive bond that 2 people share on a level beyond the conscious. I like to think that Cynthia and I had that from the very beginning of our relationship 40 years ago. It may have transitioned and transformed but it was never LOST. And, I cherish it and HER in a most sacred way.

I always will.

There was so much to love about Cynthia: her physical beauty, staggering intellect, and deep compassion are just a few of many. She loved the ocean, dance, reading, and poetry. At times, because she never married and left no children of her own, she felt like she failed in her life. And, that is tragic - because it's SO untrue. But, in the end, she came to realize the ENORMOUS impact she had on so many - with me at the top of that list.

Every Spring, when the forsythia bloomed, I would tease her by saying, look the earth is alive again because the FORCYNTHIA is back. So, whenever I see their bright yellow flowers, adding color to end the long winter season, I will think of you and smile again. Yes, Cynthia, I believe in magic. We will meet again - some day, somehow, somewhere.  .  .