Imagine, if you will, a person who made so many people smile that she was elected the president of a neighborhood women's social club. In a town she had just moved to. For a neighborhood she didn't live in. And her term as president had the highest new membership enrollment in recent history. That was Cynthia Jane Benedict Moody. Cindy had a special way about her.  She charmed friends and strangers alike, even when she was being sarcastic or sassy… which was often. Cindy was rich in friendships and loved to fill her days joining "the girls" in activities. There was bunko, mahjong, cards, dominos, book club, the other book club, the other mahjong, and the two other bunkos.  And don't forget garden club, dinners out and girls' trips!

As busy as the social butterfly was, her favorite time was spent with her family.  She missed her one great love, Gary Moody, terribly over the last 14 years she spent without him. They met on a blind date and hated each other. Luckily, a second date couldn't be avoided and they were engaged three months later and married three months after that. Granted, you couldn't ask them for the story of their engagement because 41 years of marriage never changed the fact that they couldn't agree on who proposed to whom. A little over a year after tying the knot, the welcomed their first, best and only child into the world, Meredith.

Cindy poured herself into being a remarkable wife and mother. The food she made was amazing but you had better be at the table while it was hot or you were going to hear about it. She had a creative streak that always kept the school science projects and Halloween costumes interesting. She planned vacations like a pro and insisted her husband and daughter unplugged from their responsibilities and connected with each other. Cindy made sure her daughter understood the important things in life: you can use a high heel or can of soup to drive a nail if you don't have a hammer, Broadway musicals are life, being with the wrong person is like having your arms cut off, smiling and batting your eyelashes is the best way to get out of a traffic ticket, and one deserves to wear something new and feel pretty when one is going to the high school football game. Meredith also learned, by watching Cindy, that being a strong, independent, open, straightforward person is really the best way to go through life.

And then came the grandchildren.  Her world was never the same again. Charlie and Laney were the ones that she would do anything for, including pick up and move her entire life so she could watch them grow up. As Grammy, Cindy was a constant and steady presence in their lives and made sure they knew how loved they were, how to laugh from their bellies, how to be kind and polite, and how to swear appropriately. Yes, she took all of her grandmotherly responsibilities very seriously. She also became a staunch autism advocate and made sure that everyone she knew understood that autism made a person unique, but not any less worthy of
love and respect.

As the daughter of Martin and Dorothy (Konesky) Benedict, she was extremely proud of her Czech heritage.  She grew up in northwest Ohio with her parents and older brother, Marty, and later moved to northern Michigan before trying her hand at the University of Toledo. She spent her youth driving the nuns at her Catholic school crazy, spending weekends at her grandparents' farm, making a game out of dating a different letterman
athlete during their respective season, and worshipping the sun (Cindy firmly believed that you could never be too tan). She carried the vivaciousness of her youth through all her remaining days and didn't let the bad times keep her down.

Following her sudden passing, she is survived by her eternally grateful and heartbroken daughter, Meredith Hodge, her occasionally chided but definitely cherished son-in-law, Greg, and her two favorite people on the planet, her grandkids, Charles and Delaney.  She also leaves behind her much loved pup, Archie, who has joined the Hodge pack and is consoling himself with treats and bully sticks.

Cindy would love nothing more if you would honor her life, not with flowers or tears, but with a kind word to someone different than you or a donation to Transition Success Foundation, where adults with autism are loved and cared for every day. https://transitionsuccesscenter.com/foundation/