Cindy Godwin

Cindy Pearcy Godwin — flower-loving, coconut cake-baking, drill-sergeant-with-a-hug — completed her final tour on May 29, 2025. At 74, her energy could still outpace new Army recruits, and her heart was wide enough to hold the whole world, but it always started with her family.

Born on May 16, 1951, in Hot Springs, Arkansas, Cindy was raised in a house where faith, family, and a deep love for good food were the pillars. She graduated from Hot Springs High School, where she met her high school sweetheart and future husband, LTC (retired) Bill Godwin — her prom date, her Army travel buddy, and the one man she could boss around with that special blend of charm and certainty that only Cindy possessed. Their marriage, which lasted 45 years until Bill’s death in 2015, was a love story and a life partnership built on laughter, loyalty, and the occasional stern eyebrow raise (okay, maybe more than occasional). She never got over missing her beloved Bill.

Wherever the Army sent them — Louisiana, Jacksonville, Arkansas, Nuremberg, Germany, Texarkana, Texas — Cindy made a home. She kept the home fires burning while Bill served his country, and very much in her own way, she served as well. Professional Army wife, consummate volunteer, Officers’ Wives Club, PTA queen, Odyssey of the Mind coach, Room Mother maven, Brownie troop leader — if her family was involved, Cindy was all in, clipboard and can-do attitude at the ready.

Cindy’s love language wasn’t words — it was action. It was handwritten notes in the prettiest cursive you’ve ever seen. It was a kitchen full of glorious smells and a table that felt like a hug. If you ever sat down to one of her dinners, you left full in every possible way. Her legendary coconut cake wasn’t just dessert — it was a local celebrity, once auctioned for a jaw-dropping $160 at a fundraiser. That cake, much like Cindy herself, was impossible to replicate because the main ingredient was her heart.

Her home bloomed with vases of hydrangeas and gardenias, always arranged just so. Hospitality wasn’t something she did; it was who she was. Every holiday, every milestone, every Tuesday that just needed a little extra love — she showed up and made it better. As one friend put it: “She was a fierce friend and she loved us all so well.”

Later, when her kids left the nest, Cindy carried her love of children into a second career as a Parapro at Clubview and Allen Elementary Schools. She had a reputation: as sweet as her chocolate meringue pie, but with expectations higher than the waves at the beach that she loved to watch. She believed kids could rise, and they did — because when Cindy believed in you, you believed in yourself.

She was a cradle Episcopalian — a rare breed in Hot Springs — and a second-generation one at that. She served with devotion at every Episcopal church she belonged to, but none more than St. Thomas Episcopal Church in Columbus, Georgia. Vestry member, High Tea organizer, Yard Sale wrangler, Trunk-or-Treat ringmaster — if the doors were open, Cindy was there. It’s only fitting that her funeral will be held there on Friday, June 6th at 3:00 p.m., where she’ll be laid to rest with her Bill, in a columbarium built for faithful hearts like hers.

Cindy had sayings — oh, she had sayings. If you were out of line, you might get a firm “Whoa Nellie, Bozo!” (the ‘Bozo’ remains unexplained to this day). When things got tough, she’d remind you: “Listen to what life is telling you” or “Bloom where you are planted.” And if things were really bad? “It’s high noon at Black Rock.” (We never figured that one out.) She was hard and soft at the same time, a woman who could outlast a tornado with a tray of lemon bars and a smile, but also take you down a peg when you needed it — all out of love.

Cindy leaves behind a family she was fiercely proud of: her son Stewart Godwin and his wife Cinzia; her daughter Meg, and son-in-law Mark Pelletier; her only granddaughter, Sydney Godwin, and Anita Godwin, Sydney’s mother. There are countless others who counted her as chosen family, because Cindy never let bloodlines get in the way of loving you like her own.

In a world that sometimes forgets how to be both strong and tender, Cindy remembered. She didn’t just live well — she loved well. And while we’ll miss her coconut cake, her handwritten notes, and her table set just so, what we’ll miss most is the way she made each of us feel: seen, supported, and oh-so-loved.

In her honor, go plant some gardenias, bake something from scratch (preferably with a little too much butter), send someone a real handwritten note, and above all — love your people hard and soft, just like Cindy did. Memorials may be sent to St. Thomas Episcopal Church, http://www.stthomascolumbus.org/give or 2100 Hilton Avenue, Columbus, GA 31906.