Nilda V Feola

She died peacefully at home on October 17, 2026, surrounded by the love she had spent a lifetime creating. She was 67.

Born Nilda Vasquez on September 10, 1959, in the Bronx, New York, to Genoveva and Raymond, Nilda built a life filled with family, friendship, adventure, laughter, travel, music, and an extraordinary number of people who considered her one of their very best friends and that may have been one of Nilda’s greatest gifts. She made people feel welcome.

There was always room for one more person at her table, one more guest at the Christmas party, one more friend brought along for the holiday. Her home was open, warm, impeccably clean, usually filled with fresh flowers, and somehow always smelled wonderful, much like Nilda herself. She had a way of making people feel accepted, remembered, celebrated, and important. Once you became one of Nilda’s people, chances were you stayed one of Nilda’s people.

Many of her closest friendships stretched across decades. She remembered birthdays. She returned phone calls. She showed up when people were hurting. She gave advice when it was needed and support when words were not enough. She was also a hell of a lot of fun.

Nilda was rarely far from a smile, and it was impossible to miss hers. A huge, bright, ear-to-ear smile that seemed to have been part of her from childhood on. She laughed easily, danced often, and never needed much of a reason to be silly. She loved concerts, Broadway shows, lunches with friends, Mahjong with the neighborhood ladies, a good Diet Coke, and pretty much any reason to get dressed, get out, and do something. Nilda liked to live.

She loved the beach, the sunshine, and the water, but somehow winter was her favorite season. She adored sweaters and boots, snow and cold weather, and especially New York City at Christmastime.

Travel was one of the great joys of her life. Nilda believed there was a world worth seeing, and she intended to see as much of it as she could. She traveled with friends, brought different groups of people together, and could make a new friend as easily as most people ordered a drink.

If Jerry didn’t particularly feel like traveling, Nilda loved him dearly and went anyway. That independence was part of her.

Nilda and Jerry shared 49 years together. They met young, moved to Florida, and began building a life that started with very little.

Together, they built a family, a business, friendships, traditions, and a life that can only be described as their own little empire.

Nilda supported Jerry through the demanding years of building and running his restaurant while maintaining a career of her own. She worked first in banking and then spent more than 30 years in insurance. As was typical for Nilda, coworkers rarely remained merely coworkers. They became friends, and many became family.

Their love endured every season of their life together. Jennie once asked Nilda what she loved most about Jerry, and her answer was beautifully simple: his touch. It comforted her. After nearly five decades together, Jerry was still the refuge where she found safety.

Nilda was an extraordinary mother, and Jennie was unquestionably her pride and joy.

From years spent coaching Little League and traveling for softball tournaments to encouraging Jennie to become a travel nurse and see the world, Nilda supported her fiercely. She wanted her daughter to be confident, independent, and willing to go after the life she wanted. As Jennie grew older, their relationship became something even more special: they were best friends.

They talked about everything, from good news and bad news to the ridiculous details of an ordinary day. Nilda was always the first call. Whenever Jennie was certain the sky might be falling, Nilda’s answer was almost always the same:

“It’s going to be okay.”

Jennie’s answer was always:

“It has to be.”

Nilda’s love extended well beyond her own daughter. She played an important role in the lives of her nieces and nephews and became the favorite aunt, extra mother, and trusted adviser to more people than could reasonably be counted. And then came Everly.

Nilda called her her “redheaded bonus granddaughter.” Everly found her own perfect title for Nilda: her “bestie.”

Their relationship needed no official title to explain what it meant. Nilda simply had a way of slipping naturally into that role: youthful, vibrant, fun, and deeply loved.

Years before the end of her life, she had already survived cancer as a young woman. Perhaps because of that experience, she understood earlier than many people that life was something to be experienced. So she experienced it.

She took the trips. She went to the concerts. She wore the clothes. She tried the food. She walked in the rain. She laughed. She danced. She loved Jerry’s fettuccine Alfredo. She spent countless days at Pass-a-Grille Beach. She watched the water from her home and liked to say that the dolphins had come by to see her.

She loved starfish so much that she wore one permanently as a tattoo, a symbol that had special meaning between Nilda and Jennie and eventually became unmistakably hers.

Nilda cared for her own mother through years of Alzheimer’s disease with extraordinary devotion. Years later, when it became Nilda who needed care, Jennie had the privilege of returning that love. Even then, Nilda remained Nilda.

She knew what she liked. She knew what she wanted. She knew what she absolutely did not want. And she was not shy about communicating any of the above. That certainty remained with her until the end.

When Nilda learned that her life was coming to a close, she did not face death with fear. She said plainly that she had lived a good life. She had loved, traveled, raised her daughter, built a life with Jerry, formed friendships that lasted decades, and seen the world. She had no regrets.

Even as her own time became short, Nilda remained concerned with everyone else. She worried about other people’s feelings and burdens. She remained considerate, protective, and loving. Nilda was simply Nilda.

Dynamic. Particular. Independent. Generous. Adventurous. Dependable. Always ready for the next trip. Usually ready for a party. Almost certainly ready to tell you exactly what she thought .and deeply, profoundly loved. The best way to honor Nilda may be to live a little more like she did.

Take the trip. Call your people back. Celebrate their birthdays. Invite one more person. Go to the concert. Try something new. Walk in the rain. Keep fresh flowers in the house. Make people feel welcome. Laugh loudly. Love your people hard. And when life becomes uncertain, remember Nilda’s words: “It’s going to be okay.” It has to be.

Family and friends are invited to gather in celebration of Nilda’s life on Saturday, November 7, 2026, from 12:00 to 4:00 p.m. at Beach Memorial Chapel in St. Pete Beach, Florida. Come as you are, share a story, stay awhile, laugh with us, and help celebrate a woman who spent 67 years doing exactly that: living.

And one final request from Nilda herself, because of course she had one:

Please, for the love of God, no carnations.