Cynthia Changaris moved through life as if carried by the wind—light, free, and full of wonder. With a bottle of bubbles in one hand and a ukulele in the other, she made magic out of the ordinary. “She had this way of making the simplest moments feel like an adventure,” recalled her longtime friend, Emily Tran. The world was her playground, and she invited everyone around her to join in the fun, whether it was an impromptu sidewalk concert or a spontaneous dance in the rain. To know her was to know laughter, adventure, and the kind of kindness that left a lasting imprint on the heart.
She found beauty in the smallest things: the way the sunlight filtered through the trees, the sound of a child’s giggle, the shimmer of soap bubbles floating toward the sky. “She could make standing in line for coffee feel like the best part of your day,” said her coworker, Marcus Lane. Nothing was too simple to be celebrated. A walk in the park became a treasure hunt, a quiet evening turned into a storytelling session filled with wild imaginings. She lived with the belief that joy was meant to be shared, and she did so effortlessly, leaving smiles in her wake.
Her music was never just about notes and chords—it was about connection. “She could pick up her ukulele and somehow, in just a few strums, remind you that the world was still good,” remembered her cousin, Lila Reyes. Whether she was playing under the stars or humming a tune while making tea, music wove through her life like a golden thread. She played for the sheer love of it, and those lucky enough to hear her felt a little lighter, a little closer to something pure and good. It wasn’t about perfection; it was about presence, about embracing the moment with open arms and an open heart.
Beyond her whimsical spirit, she was a woman of deep passion and purpose. She poured her heart into her work as a nurse, offering not just medical care but compassion, humor, and an unwavering belief in the strength of the human spirit. “She had this ability to make people feel truly seen, even in their hardest moments,” said her colleague, Dr. Peter Ng. Her patients weren’t just names on a chart—they were people, and she treated each one with kindness and dignity. Her dedication extended beyond the hospital walls as she uplifted others through her storytelling, founding the Going Deep event to give voice to experiences that needed to be shared. “She believed stories could heal, and she created a space where people could be vulnerable, honest, and whole,” said her friend and fellow storyteller, Rachel Kim.
Storytelling was at the heart of her being, a way she connected with others and helped them find meaning in their own lives. “She had a way of getting right to the heart of a story, of making you feel it in your bones,” said storyteller Priscilla Howe. Whether on stage or in conversation, she drew people in with her warmth, humor, and authenticity. Priscilla also shared, “She didn’t just tell stories—she lived them, embracing every moment with the kind of enthusiasm most of us only dream about.”
She may no longer walk among us, but her spirit lingers in the melodies she played, in the bubbles that rise and pop in the wind, in every act of unexpected joy we choose to embrace. “She made the world brighter just by being in it,” said her dear friend, Jasmine Patel. To honor her is to keep that spirit alive—to laugh, to play, to spread kindness wherever we go. She lived as a bright spark in a sometimes-dim world, and though she has moved on, her light will never fade.
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You can see more details on Cynthia Changaris with the Story Artists Memorial.
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I appreciate Cynthia Changaris, who was always ready for an adventure on a mountain, in a whitewater raft, upon a patio with bubbles, or discovering fun-shaped objects at a beach. No wonder she was a delight when she told stories. She lived them! And, she still does beyond this earth time.
Cynthia Changaris still has a story. You have a story. We all have stories.
Thank you so much for sharing her story.
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