Birth date: Sep 6, 1950 Death date: Feb 17, 2026
It is with heavy hearts, yet deep gratitude for a life so beautifully lived, that we announce the passing of Gertrude Spence, lovingly known as Blossom; a woman whose unrelenting strength, unwavering love and radiant spirit shaped Read Obituary
Gertrude (Blossom as you were affectionately called), you were truly special and a beautiful soul. You will be truly missed but I will forever treasure the memories we shared and you will continue to live on in my heart. Sleep in Peace
Vinnette
In Memory of My Cousin, Gertrude "Blossom" Spence
As we celebrate the extraordinary life of my cousin, Gertrude Spence—the woman we all knew and loved as Blossom, I'd like to share a few memories.
A name like Blossom isn’t given by chance. It’s earned. It’s a reflection of a vibrant, beautiful spirit that touches everyone around it. And that’s exactly who she was.
Blossom was born in St. Catherine, Jamaica, the beloved daughter of Mavis and a proud granddaughter in our large, loving family. She moved to New York City as a teenager to join her mother, and she didn’t just move there—she embraced it, mastered it, and became a true New Yorker in every sense of the word.
For me and my brother David, she was our introduction to the big city and its possibilities. When we arrived in the early 1970s, it was Blossom who took us under her wing. She became our guide. She taught us how to navigate this new world, and most importantly, she taught us how to do it with style.
And what incredible style she had. Blossom was a fashionista decades before the word was ever coined. She worked in the heart of New York City and consistently out-dressed everyone. She was ahead of her time in every way—wearing lash extensions, blonde hair and a nose ring way back in the 1970s. She once worked for a company called “Movie Star,” and let me tell you, she embodied that name every single day.
I love the memories of her taking my brother David to Delancey Street— 'the place' back then—to outfit him for job hunting in New York. She had an impeccable eye for quality. David has vivid memories of the two sports jackets she bought him. They were so stylish and so well-made that after he outgrew them, they found new life in my closet and lasted for years. Blossom didn’t just follow trends; she set them.
Her brilliant taste extended into her home, which always looked like it was pulled from the pages of a design magazine. When she was only in her early twenties, at the height of the disco era, among her outstanding decor was a classic Corinthian leather sofa… and a glittering disco ball hanging from her living room ceiling in The Bronx. She always had her finger on the pulse. Her home was a masterpiece of style, but even more so, it was a place of incredible warmth and hospitality.
Because Blossom was, without a doubt, the best cook. You never needed to call ahead. If you dropped in, she’d welcome you and then vanish into the kitchen, emerging with a meal so delicious you’d lick your fingers clean. It was perfection, every time.
She opened that beautiful home to everyone. I remember Blossom hosting my many colleagues, from North Central Bronx Hospital (NCB), making them feel like family. Many surprise parties for colleagues were held at Blossom's place. Even later in life, when remembering could sometimes be a challenge, Blossom never forgot those friends, asking for them by name. And they have never forgotten her grace and generosity.
Over the years, the bond between Blossom and me deepened from cousin and mentor into something even more precious—we became like sisters. We shared summer trips to New Hampshire along with my NCB colleagues, memories that Blossom cherished and held close forever.
Blossom’s life was a lesson in how to live boldly, love generously, and create beauty in everything you do. She taught us about resilience, about joy, and about the importance of making everyone feel seen and welcomed.
I will miss her dazzling presence, her infectious spirit, and the love she cooked into every meal. But her legacy isn’t gone. It’s woven into our lives—in the style she taught us, the strength she showed us, and the countless memories we will carry forward.
Thank you, Blossom, for being my guiding light, my inspiration, and my heart. Rest in peace, our beautiful Movie Star. We love you.
I have known Trudy for over thirty years. We met at a psychiatric hospital where we both worked. Then we worked together at TGH.
From the very beginning, she was fiercely proud of her sons—they were her greatest joy. She carried herself with strength and conviction, unapologetically who she was. Her home reflected her spirit: spotless, orderly, and filled with her unmistakable sense of style. She worked hard, loved deeply, and showed up fully for the people she cared about. She was not only a great friend—she was family.
I will never forget the day she called to tell me she had cancer. Her voice trembled as she shared her fear that she would be overlooked, dismissed, allowed to slip away because of the color of her skin. I dropped everything. With tears in my eyes, I went straight to the hospital. When they asked who I was, I said she was my sister. It wasn’t a lie in the ways that mattered most.
She was terrified, but she was also determined. She wasn’t ready to leave this world, and she fought with everything she had. That fight never left her—not through the hardest days, not until the very end. Her courage was fierce. Her will was undeniable.
I will miss you, my friend, my sister. Give my mom a hug for me. Until we see each other again.
Betty
