Cindy Rizzo Richetti moved into the next stage of life on July 23, 2026. She was excited about the adventure and only sorry to know she might be missed—which, naturally, she will be, enormously. Cindy’s life was full and rich: full of family, friendship, purpose, laughter, competition, excellent lunches, and more games than any one household should reasonably contain.
Cindy grew up in Jamestown, New York. In high school, she met Don Richetti, the love of her life, in trigonometry class—a surprisingly productive use of trigonometry. Their first exchanges were playful and silly, setting the stage for a lifetime in which Don supplied the jokes and Cindy was often the only person in the room laughing at them. It was an arrangement that worked beautifully for more than fifty years. Cindy went on to earn a bachelor’s degree in psychology from St. Bonaventure University and a master’s degree in counseling.
They married after college, completed their graduate degrees, and moved to Pensacola, Florida, where Don followed his dream of becoming a naval aviator. The Navy later brought them to Virginia Beach and then Washington, D.C., where Don completed his military service as an admiral’s aide.
Cindy’s career took many forms. She wrote abstracts for the Air Force, opened a copyediting business, and taught at the Norfolk Adult Learning Center. When Don became head of the Automotive Hall of Fame in Midland, Michigan, Cindy spent five years as a full-time mother to Ryan, Logan, and Vanessa—a position that undoubtedly required every counseling skill she had acquired and several that no graduate program had thought to teach her. She later created a parent education program serving all four school districts in Midland County.
After the family moved to Ponte Vedra Beach, Florida, Cindy settled happily into years of cheering at the boys’ baseball games and, later, Vanessa’s vocal performances. She worked as a school counselor at Ponte Vedra/Palm Valley and Ocean Palms elementary schools before opening a private counseling practice that she absolutely loved and maintained for more than twenty-five years. Her clients mattered deeply to her, and helping people understand themselves and build better lives was one of the great privileges of her life.
In 2013, Cindy was diagnosed with an aggressive form of multiple myeloma and given a prognosis of two to three years. Cindy, apparently unimpressed by the estimate, lived well for more than thirteen years. She often insisted that she had the best life ever, and she made a persuasive case. She biked, swam, played tennis and cards with friends, and reveled in daily Rummikub games and vicious ping-pong battles with Don. Their puppies, Ladybug and Pickle, helped fill the empty nest. Cindy treasured lunches with her girlfriends, and when she discovered pickleball, she found not only a new athletic obsession but a community of people she adored. The competition was exhilarating, the friendships were joyful, and the whole enterprise was, in Cindy’s words, “fun beyond belief”—which, in her estimation, was the whole entire point.
When she was first diagnosed, Cindy’s immediate question was, “Will I live to see a grandchild?” The answer arrived nine glorious times over: Roman, Rocco, and Renzo; Finley, Elaina, Lenora, and Beverly; and Sophie and Claire. They were the astonishing answer to that frightened question. She also adored the partners her children chose: Ryan’s Kara, Logan’s Morgan, and Vanessa’s Nick.
Cindy was profoundly grateful for the talented professionals who helped her live those thirteen years so fully, including Mayo Clinic myeloma specialists, Dr. Sikander Ailawadhi and Dr. Ricardo Parrondo; Caitlin Flott and the nurses of Mangurian 2 Research; Dr. Ciara Freeman at Moffitt Cancer Center; Dr. Dawn Mussallem; Dr. Monisha Bhanote; Brian Mark Mahony of SparkCures; acupuncturist, Gretchen Lorenzen; massage therapist, Mike Brock; and hypnotherapists, Avlhoam Lerner and Molly Hines. Their knowledge, care, creativity, and persistence gave Cindy more time—and she used it exceptionally well.
Cindy shared more than fifty loving years with Don, who possessed the rare ability to calculate exactly how many ping-pong points to concede before ensuring that the correct person eventually won. Together they raised three wonderful children and welcomed nine beloved grandchildren. Cindy treasured her family and friends, adored two excellent puppies, found deep meaning in her work, and repeatedly declared that she had the best life ever.
She wanted everyone to know one more thing: she intends to remain nearby, cheering all of us on.
So keep an eye out for ladybugs.
A Celebration of Cindy’s Life will be held at a later date, and Cindy left explicit instructions that it include laughter—“or else I’ll be disappointed!” Details and updates will be shared at celebratecindy.com as plans are finalized.
Those wishing to honor Cindy may make a donation to the Multiple Myeloma Research Foundation at donate.themmrf.org/home.
