Angela Hill

Angela Hill (née Bell), a woman of immense kindness, intelligence and grace, passed away on June 25, 2026, at the age of 49 in Carlsbad, CA. She is survived by her devoted husband, Brent, her seven precious children, Peyton (30), Damion (28), Cammy (26), Zoe (23), Alec (21), Emma (18), and Quinn (11), her loving mother, Charlotte, and her caring siblings, Jennifer, Rich, Marianne, Ron, Stephen and Liz. She was preceded in death by her brother, Mike, and her father, Ronald, both of whom she loved so dearly and will now join forever in peace and harmony.

After a seven-year battle with Lupus and various other illnesses, Angela’s body finally could not handle the physical toll. She faced every single day with dignity and unflinching courage, choosing to fight for far longer than most could have. Despite years of overcoming obstacles to discover a diagnosis, she fought with relentless spirit not only for her own well-being, but to ensure the future health and happiness of her children. The suffering she experienced later in life was unfathomable, but she endured, day after day, in the hope that she could continue to guide those most dear to her to be the best versions of themselves.

However, Angela’s life cannot be defined by her recent struggles. She was a successful realtor, an ambitious writer, an amazing baker and, of course, the best mother anyone could ever dream of having. Her many passions included gardening, running daily, visiting the beach, and engaging in lively political discussions. She traveled the world at the young age of 18, battled to protect and provide for her then five children as a single mother at the age of 28, and she thrived in real estate by the age of 38 while adding another two children to her already busy life. Despite her many responsibilities and competing obligations, she never missed a piano recital, a church play nor a basketball game, never failed to volunteer for school activities, and never, not even once, forgot to give her children the best and most memorable birthdays and holidays any child could ever imagine.

Angela loved musicals, trivia, horror movies and UFO-investigation shows, interests that she passed on to all of her children in some form or another. She loved to host family gatherings and bring friends and family together, always providing a warm and welcoming haven for those who needed it. Blessed with an indomitable sense of humor, she joked and laughed

until her final moments. Even the night before her unexpected passing, after being immobile for nearly two years, she joked about being “rolled out” of the hospital. Among the last messages she sent to her family, she conveyed her frustration with being in the hospital for so long and stated her impatient desire to return home and simply “hangout” with those she loved most.

We feel a small measure of solace in the fact that over her final week, Angela experienced the joys of hearing her children play in the pool, watched movies with her family, and celebrated Father’s Day with the love of her life. Angela’s beauty, wit, and compassion were unmatched, only to be surpassed by her love for her children, whom she treasured above all else in this world. Words will never express the debt we all owe her, and we can only hope to make a fraction of the impression she made on so many. We will cherish her memory for eternity.

We love her more than anything and feel her love still, as it lives through all of us. It lives through the kind eyes of her children; it lives through the thankful words of those suffering similar illnesses whom she supported; and, above all, it lives through every family game night, every birthday gift given, and every unconditional expression of love and understanding. Thank you, Angela, for providing empathy, laughter, and an uncompromising moral compass to us all, regardless of your circumstances or tribulations. We would not measure as even half the individuals we are today if not for your love and guidance.

The world is now a dimmer place without your light, but it is still a far brighter place now than it ever could have been had you never been here at all.

We miss her so dearly, and we always will.