FAIRLEE-Cindy Hodge Frazee, 68, of Fairlee, Vermont, passed away peacefully on April 24, 2026, after a courageous battle with cancer.

She was born on October 24, 1957, in Woodsville, New Hampshire, and from the very beginning, her life was rooted in the farm, in family, and in the quiet, steady work that shaped both.

Her childhood unfolded in the rhythm of the farm, early mornings, the hum of the milking machines, and the coming and going of seasons that never waited. She worked alongside her father, Herbie in the barn and her mother, Beverly, at the roadside stand, learning early what it meant to show up, to contribute, and to care. At the stand, she also formed a lifelong bond with Priscilla, who worked alongside Beverly and dedicated her life to the farm. Cindy and Priscilla grew close as sisters, sharing in the work, the laughter, and the daily rhythm of life. It was a life that asked much, but gave even more in return.

In those early years, she welcomed her little sister, Jody, into that world. Cindy loved having her there, first as a playmate in the farmhouse, and later as a willing and enthusiastic taste tester for the recipes Jody would dream up in the kitchen.

And then there were the horses.

When Cindy was given her first pony, something in her settled into place. Riding became more than a pastime. It was freedom, motion, and trust. She learned how to move with something larger than herself and how to listen without words. There were long drives to horse shows across Vermont and to the Eastern States Exposition, and long rides home with ribbons, trophies, and stories. What mattered most was the feeling, the quiet understanding between rider and horse.

After high school, she left home with her horse, Half and Half, and carried that part of herself to the University of New Hampshire, where she studied Animal Science with a focus in Equine Studies. There were more ribbons, more miles, and more moments that shaped her. Eventually, life drew her back.

Back to Fairlee. Back to the farm.

There, the work felt different. Deeper. The same chores and the same land, but now she understood the weight of it all, the years behind it, the hands that had built it, and the care it required. The farm was no longer just where she grew up. It was something she was helping to carry forward.

Not long after returning home, she became a mother. Maegan was born into that life, into a home where love was steady and ever present. Cindy embraced motherhood fully, with a quiet strength and devotion that never needed to be spoken aloud to be understood. In time, Maegan, alongside her husband Stephen, would carry those same values into a life of their own.

And then love found her again.

Russell came to the farm as a visiting breeding technician, but he did not stay a visitor for long. He had grown up on a farm himself and recognized something familiar in Cindy, in her steadiness, her connection to the land, and her way of being. They fell for each other quickly, the kind of love that builds in small, certain moments. They were married on a peaceful summer afternoon in their yard, under an oak tree, the love of their family surrounding them, with the farm stretching out behind everything.

With Russell came four boys, Matthew, Noah, Shaun, and Nathan, and Cindy welcomed them without hesitation, loving them as her own. The boys grew up with their mother, Michelle, and her husband Tony, and over time Michelle became a close friend to Cindy. Together they built something rooted in mutual respect and love. In time, those boys grew into men and built families of their own. Matthew, alongside his wife Sarah, would raise three boys, Hayden, Holden, and Harrison. Shaun would go on to have Evrett and Caroline. Nathan, with his wife Alison, would welcome their daughter, Acadia. Through each of them, the family expanded in ways that brought Cindy deep pride.

The farm was alive with energy in those years, filled with the laughter of the boys and Maegan riding bikes and playing together, while Cindy looked on with quiet, steady love. The farm business was thriving, and there was a strong sense of purpose and momentum in everything the family built together.

When Mark was born, it felt like a continuation of that life. Cindy worked alongside the cows through her entire pregnancy, and after he arrived, she rested briefly, just two days, before returning to the barn. Not out of obligation, but because that was who she was. From the very beginning, Mark was right there with her, often tucked into a backpack, riding along as she moved through the milking stable, part of the rhythm of the farm from his earliest days. That connection stayed with him, returning home each summer through college to work alongside her and remain part of the life she had built. Years later, alongside his wife Kayla, he would remain closely tied to the values and way of life that shaped him.

Over time, she became someone who could hold it all, the work, the family, and the responsibility.

She earned Agri-Mark milk quality awards alongside her father and Dairy of Distinction honors during the farm’s peak years. Buses came from all over New England, filled with visitors eager to see the operation. She gave tours, told stories, and welcomed people in. When her own children’s classmates came for field trips, there was a special kind of pride in showing them that world. Over the years, she welcomed countless young people to work on the farm, including Priscilla’s granddaughter, Emi, taking them under her wing with patience and care, teaching, guiding, and leaving a lasting impression on each of them.

She showed up everywhere else, too, at games, at performances, and at anything that mattered to her kids. When the day was done, she went back to the barn to finish what needed finishing, or checking in on a cow that needed checking.

She traveled when she could, to Boston, New York City, Iowa, Michigan, and Maryland, often for her children’s school trips. On those trips, she became a favorite chaperone. She had a way of making every child feel included, like they belonged and like they mattered.

She loved the Fourth of July.

Each year, she helped create floats that reflected the farm and the spirit of the community. It was creative and joyful work. More than anything, she loved the parade itself, the chance to see everyone at once, friends lining the streets, waving, smiling, calling out, and Cindy tossing Cabot cheese into the crowd, laughing as she went by.

And then there was Christmas at the farm.

The busiest day of the year. Hundreds of people filling the roadside stand and Christmas shop. Santa, a petting zoo, hot cocoa, and Clydesdale wagon rides. WYKR radio broadcasting live.

Somewhere in the middle of it all was Cindy, dressed as Vermontica the Cow, singing Christmas carols with children live on the radio. In between moments, she loved slipping over to visit the big horses, drawn to them in the same quiet way she always had been. She was buzzing, moving from one moment to the next, feeding off the energy, completely in her element. She loved being around everyone, seeing so many familiar faces at once, and sharing in the joy of the day.

As the years passed, the farm changed, and life brought both joy and loss. Cindy carried the memory of Noah, who passed away in 2023 after his own battle with cancer, holding him close in her heart. Even in grief, her love for her family never wavered. It only deepened.

As the roadside stand slowed and her parents passed, Cindy embraced a new chapter. She found joy in welcoming her grandchildren to the farm, sharing with them her love of animals and the quiet magic of the place that had shaped her life. She also found comfort and creativity in the kitchen, where she loved baking and trying new recipes she would discover tucked away in cupboards or shared on Facebook. Russell especially loved her baking, always happy to enjoy whatever she made. She had a well-known love for donuts, and there was always coffee ready and a seat at the table, especially around the holidays. To Cindy, there was no such thing as too many guests. There was always room for one more, and she made everyone feel like they belonged. Through it all, Russell worked tirelessly by her side on the farm, a quiet and steady presence helping her realize the life and dream they built together. Together, they created a life rooted in hard work, love, and deep commitment to one another and the farm.

Even when she became ill, that part of her never changed.

She remained herself, warm, open, and connected. She loved her phone calls with family. She made friends in chemo sessions, week after week. She reconnected with people from her past and met others who carried their own memories of the farm. She would often wear her Cabot hat to chemo and quickly became known as the “Cabot lady,” a favorite among the nurses, especially when she showed up with cheese and sweet corn to share.

And she kept showing up.

Cindy’s life was one of deep love, hard work, and connection to her family, her animals, her community, and the land that shaped her. She carried a quiet strength, a joyful spirit, and a genuine warmth that made people feel seen and valued. Whether on the farm, cheering in the stands, or on the other end of a phone call, she showed up fully, with her whole heart.

She leaves behind her loving husband Russell, her sister Jody and her partner Tim McCarthy, her children, Maegan and her husband Stephen, Matthew and his wife Sarah, Shaun, Nathan and his wife Alison, and Mark and his wife Kayla, along with her beloved grandchildren Hayden, Holden, Harrison, Evrett, Caroline, and Acadia, and the many lives she touched along the way.

A memorial service will be held on May 9th at 2:00 PM at the Fairlee Community Church, with a reception to follow at the Fairlee Town Hall. Attire is encouraged to reflect Cindy’s spirit, bright colors, florals, and denim.