There are some people you assume will always be there.
Cindy was one of those people.
For more than 25 years, she was simply always there at MediaLocate. Hers was a steady and reassuring presence: quiet, unassuming, yet sharp and ready to step in wherever her help might be needed. Cindy’s passing leaves a silence much louder than we ever could have imagined. It’s not only the loss of a colleague, it’s the loss of a constant.
Cindy devoted her life to language with a passion that few people are fortunate enough to experience. To her, working in translation wasn’t just a job, or even a career. It was how she understood the world and connected with its people. After graduating from the then Monterey Institute of International Studies Translation and Interpretation program in 1995, she built a life centered on words: translating, interpreting, editing, managing projects, building terminology systems, mentoring interns, and later teaching students who would go on to shape the next generation of the industry. As an adjunct professor at MIIS, she stepped in when programs needed saving, when teams needed structure, and when young professionals needed guidance. She never guarded knowledge, but enjoyed passing it on.
Within MediaLocate, everyone knew that when accuracy mattered, you went to Cindy. She helped build departments from the ground up and trained more colleagues than she would ever admit to influencing. But what we remember most isn’t the list of roles or titles she held. It’s how she worked: patient, precise, thoughtful, and always willing to share what she knew.
What many people didn’t fully see was the effort behind her presence. Cindy lived with cerebral palsy and navigated daily life as a disabled woman, yet she never allowed limitations to define her and never wanted special treatment. Few of us can truly understand the effort it took for her simply to arrive each day and still devote her full energy to her work. And yet she did, again and again, remaining calm and focused through many late nights and giving her all to the work she loved.
Cindy didn’t believe in shortcuts. Retirement and disability weren’t ideas she entertained. Not because she needed to work, but because she wanted to. The world of language was her home. Translating, reading, writing, teaching, managing teams around the globe: this was the life she chose, and she protected it fiercely. She carried herself with a quiet dignity that made an impression without trying. She was a mentor to many, a friend to all, and an example of endurance that no lecture or training manual could ever teach.
There is a cruel irony in losing Cindy at a time when our industry is changing so dramatically. Translation is being reshaped by artificial intelligence, and the pace of this change can make it easy to forget the people who built this profession with care and patience over decades. Cindy represents that foundation. Her life reminds us that translation isn’t just about output or speed. It’s about responsibility, trust, and the deeply human act of carrying meaning safely from one person to another.
In her final chapter, Cindy was surrounded by those she loved most: the Rizzo family, who “adopted” her many years ago; her loyal friends and caregivers; and of course, her cat and her ever-present service dog, Ori. She even got to watch her beloved Seahawks win one last game on their way to the Super Bowl, one of the simple joys she had always cherished.
Cindy’s legacy isn’t a resume. It’s the people she shaped, the standards she quietly raised, and the kindness that now feels enormous in hindsight. She made our work better. She made our days brighter. She made us stronger just by being there.
People like Cindy do not simply disappear: they leave a lasting mark. As our industry moves forward, we carry her with us in the way that we respect language, support one another, and remember that human care will always matter.
Cindy, you will not be forgotten.
If you’d like, please share a favorite memory of Cindy in the comment section below. And if you wish to honor her in another way, donations in her name can be made to her favorite charity, Canine Companions (canine.org/giftlove).
