Cynthia Sue Hicks

Cynthia Sue Hicks, daughter of Dodie and John Hicks, was born on 12/28/1953. Since that day, she required all her birthday presents to be wrapped in non-Christmas paper.

After a 16-month battle with stage 4 pancreatic cancer (and then a stroke and a seizure disorder, because cancer is apparently not enough), she passed peacefully at home surrounded by love and music on August 31, 2024.

She grew up in Virginia Beach in awe of little sister Sandy who seemed to never know the words, “no,” or “can’t.” She thrived on Dodie’s Shaklee shakes and peanut butter marshmallow fluff sandwiches. She loved playing softball and field hockey, and was greatly supported by her parents in her athletic endeavors. She attended Radford College in 1972, the year they admitted men for the first time. She was mad about that ‘til her last day on this earth. Still, she loved college, especially hanging out with her best buds in Pig Pen Alley, which was the second floor of Bowling Hall.

After college, she did some substitute teaching but because some fools were too stupid to offer her a full-time teaching job (their loss), she opened a sporting goods store with her mom! “Cido” (combo of Cindy and Dodie) carried sporting goods and apparel for women and girls. This was 1976, people! She was ahead of her time.

After closing the store, she felt like she needed to spread her wings in the big city, so she moved to … Springfield, VA! Once in the metro area, she waited tables, then worked for the government for 5 minutes, then worked at a bookstore, then waited some more tables until she found her body-based calling and went to massage school (I mean, do we really care about all the jobs she had before she could give us a massage?). The world was a better place having Cindy as a massage therapist.

Ever the advanced planner, she went back to school to become a Physical Therapist Assistant, and after a short stint with a mean boss at a place we will not name, she worked at Kaiser Permanente for 22 years, bringing her sum total of healing work to a whopping 45 years.

The only thing better than her healing hands were her dancing skills! Our two-stepping and swing dancing crowd has lost one of the best leads ever. The best thing she ever did though, was co-parent her amazing, beautiful, brilliant, and musical son, Jesse, who brought her boundless joy.

After being diagnosed with advanced pancreatic cancer in April 2023, she was cared for fiercely by her close circle of friends and her “ladies of the lake” — a gaggle of women who gathered after Cindy’s diagnosis to help her live her best life, and whose lives were immeasurably touched by those outings.

In her last 16 months on this planet, when not dealing with side effects from cancer, she soaked up the joy of living. She had ice cream for lunch; she read books, played ping pong and did a zillion puzzles; she had people over for movies, coffee, and cannolis. She watched her son play in orchestras on livestream, which was sometimes problematic for other people watching since she was always boo-hooing with tears of pride and joy for the first few minutes. She shaped the world into how she would have created it, meaning the price of admission to spend time with her was that you had to play Bananagrams, Phase 10, Skip-Bo or Rummikub during your visit.

She was predeceased by her brother John and her parents, and is survived by her immediate family, Lisa and Jesse Silverberg, Lisa’s sister, Susan, Lisa’s parents, Paul and Estelle, “our Andy” (Eric), Cindy’s sister, Sandy (Fritz), her adored nieces Jennie (Brian) and Jamie, her four giggly great nieces: Quinn, Reese, Rori, and Emersen, as well as her exes and besties (some of whom hold both titles).

She left this world in comfy pajama pants and her “I’m STILL with her” Hillary Clinton t-shirt. She is free of pain and of people who annoyingly leave their left-hand-turn signals on for too long.  We will miss her big heart, magic hands, dancing feet, and hysterical facial expressions.

Cindy was a firm believer in reincarnation, so we look forward to her return. Until then, we know people are lined up in heaven waiting to dance with her. There will be a celebration of her life in the form of a dance party, as was her wish. This will take place when we feel festive enough to have it.

Cindy approved this irreverent obituary, and actually co-authored most of it before she passed.

Those who are moved to honor Cindy’s life with a contribution to causes she cared about can donate to either of these:

Compassion and Choices

DC Rawhides  (a country-western dancing group, of course!)