I miss my friend Cynthia O’Neal.

I remember the first personal conversation we had. I was talking with her about some relationship stuff, and referring to my then-girlfriend, she said, “I think you should do whatever you can to keep this girl.”

I replied, “Really? Why?”

She said, “Because I don’t know of any woman in her right mind who’d put up with you and your mess.”

Cynthia figured some things out before I even could, but she didn’t dare hurt my feelings.

She quickly became one of my closest friends and confidantes. We connected because Cynthia was both honest and modest, and — combined with an ethical ambition — she pushed me like no one else in my life ever has.

Cynthia understood that if you were of the wrong race, if you were of the wrong gender, if you came from the wrong side of the tracks, you might have to work two or three times as hard to build the kind of life you wanted.

That’s why in Cynthia’s world, excellence was par. Overachievement was the norm, and mediocrity was scorned. Cynthia spent her life working overtime to define her unique brand of success.

You can Google Cynthia to learn a few things about her.

Her obituary will tell you that she went to the prestigious Raleigh Christian Academy, but she didn’t usually share that she and her sister Sharon cleaned other people’s houses after school in order to help their mom and dad pay tuition.

Cynthia went to Duke for undergrad, but she didn’t usually share that while most kids were on Ninth Street, she waited tables at the Red Lobster on 15–501 to make ends meet.

Cynthia went to Duke Law, but she didn’t usually mention that she slept in the libraries to study all night just to make sure she stayed ahead of the professors.

Cynthia had an illustrious legal career, but she didn’t usually mention that she logged countless hours providing pro bono services to minority and women-owned businesses.

Cynthia was one of the top legal minds in state government, but she didn’t usually tell people that she was always the first one in the office in the morning and the last one to leave at night. Plus, she came in the office at least once every weekend.

She worked hard, but Cynthia’s work didn’t stop at professional pursuits.

Cynthia worked three times as hard to be a rock for her family. Every day, I would hear stories of Ms. Azzie making preserves, Jasper out in the garden, and TJ watching the Duke games with her.

She’d tell me, “I’ve got to go home to the country. Even though I’m just up the road, I miss them so much.”

Cynthia worked three times as hard to be a great friend, always picking up the phone for people like Avery Staley and Joseph Zhou. Always taking time out of her day when Barbara O’Sullivan and Kimberly Reynolds needed her in the office.

Cynthia worked three times as hard to network. Before Heather Hesketh and I asked LinkedIn to remove her account, she had more than 750 connections, and she made it a daily practice to find new people to reach. We had a competition going to see who could make the most authentic connections on LinkedIn, but she cancelled the competition when I edged ahead of her.

Cynthia went above and beyond the call of duty — in her personal and professional lives.

She was able to do what few people actually get to do: She created an extraordinary life.

You can see evidence of that extraordinary life here today. Hundreds of us — from different backgrounds, professions, races, cultures, and religions — who remember someone who meant the world to us. Someone who was our friend.

So what can we take away from Cynthia’s brief time in our lives? What is the legacy she has left us?

I can’t speak for anyone else, but the way I can best honor Cynthia is to bring my A-game to every aspect of my life — to espouse excellence in all I do.

I’m going to work three times as hard at my work because that’s what Cynthia would want.

I’m going to work three times as hard to be a better friend.

I’m going to work three times as hard to be a better boyfriend to whoever is crazy enough to date me.

If each of us here today works three times as hard to be good family members,

Three times as hard to push buttons,

Three times as hard to challenge assumptions,

Three times as hard to move the status quo,

Three times as hard to follow God,

I know that we will fulfill Cynthia’s legacy. In her image, we can create our own extraordinary lives.

God bless you, and God bless Cynthia O’Neal.