Birth date: Jun 8, 1970 Death date: Feb 24, 2026
Wendy Diana Eldridge, 55 of Tampa, was taken from us too soon on February 24th, 2026. She took pride in being a loving wife, mother, daughter, sister, aunt and friend to all who were blessed to know her. Wendy was the most selfle Read Obituary
Mom I miss you so much
I was laying in bed with Stella tonight and I told her “you’re so funny, you were cracking me up today” and the first thing that came to mind was Aunt Wendy. I could hear her voice telling me the same exact thing. She was always so good at telling us how amazing we were and how much she loved to be around us. All of us got to experience her and how loving and accepting she was and the absence of that is so deeply painful.
Every single day I miss you more and more… it’s starting to sink in and I don’t want it to, you are everywhere I look and in everything I do. I love you so much xoxo
We did a balloon release for you on Sunday, I know how much you loved those. Last night we went to the beach to feel closer to you, thank you for the signs, please keep them coming mom. It seems each day is getting harder and I’m missing you more and more. I love you so much xoxoxo your babygirl
With a broken heart we had to say goodbye to our sweet niece Wendy — a light in all of our lives.
It still doesn’t feel real. Just seven months ago, she walked through the unimaginable pain of losing her mom after years of loving, devoted care. Wendy gave our sister the very best of herself. She showed up every single day with patience, strength, compassion, and a love that never wavered. She didn’t just care for her mom — she honored her. That kind of devotion tells you everything about who Wendy was.
And now, to be here so soon after that loss feels unbearable.
The bond she shared with so many was strong, loving, and full of laughter. Wendy was a lifelong friend and fierce supporter of so many — but her family was her heart, her love, commitment, and enthusiasm she poured into the people she cared about was real!
Every time she greeted you, it was never just a quick hello. It was, “Hi always saying your name, always making it personal. And before you could even settle in, she’d ask, “Can I get you something? Something to drink? Something to eat?” She had a servant’s heart. She made you feel seen. She made you feel welcome. She made you feel important.
Wendy was kindness in action. She was love in motion. She was light — the kind of light that warmed everyone it touched.
The world feels dimmer without her. We will miss her bright smile.
We will miss the way she made every gathering feel a little more joyful just by being there.
But even in this heartbreak, I know this: the love she gave doesn’t disappear. It lives on in her entire family and in every act of kindness we choose to show because she showed us how.
Rest easy, sweet Wendy.
Your work here was beautiful.
Your love was real.
And your light will never, ever be forgotten.
I will miss you, love your Aunt Rhonda
Growing up, Wendy was always a few years ahead of me. When you’re a kid, that feels like a big gap. The older cousins always seemed like they were already living in the next chapter of life — a little cooler, a little more confident, already part of a world you were just starting to step into.
When I think of Wendy, I don’t really think of one specific moment. What comes to mind is more the feeling of those teenage years and the impression she made. She had that unmistakable 80’s metal style and attitude that, to a younger cousin, just seemed incredibly cool.
Over the years I’ve even told my daughters stories about those days and about Wendy. They always smile hearing about it and can easily picture the style and confidence of that time.
Life has a way of spreading people out, and it had been many years since I last saw her. But those early memories never really fade. I’m truly saddened by her passing and grateful for the part she played in those memories of growing up.
She will always be remembered.
