In Loving Memory of Phyllis Romero-Molloy

September 27, 1959 - August 9, 2026

Phyllis Romero-Molloy was a woman whose life was defined by love, compassion, generosity, and an extraordinary instinct to care for the people around her. She was a daughter, sister, twin, wife, mother, grandmother, aunt, friend, and caregiver. But to those fortunate enough to be loved by her, those titles only begin to describe who she was.

Phyllis was born on September 27, 1959, in Farley, New Mexico, to Benelito Romero and Mary F. Romero. She was one of several siblings and shared the special lifelong bond of being a twin with her brother, Phillip Romero. Her siblings also included Arthur Romero, who preceded her in death; Alfred Romero; Robert B. Romero; and Susan M. Romero.

Phyllis later grew up in California, where her family owned a gas station and she worked when she was young. She may not have always enjoyed working there at the time, but years later she couldn't tell those stories without smiling and showing a little pride.

She graduated from Chula Vista High School, where, without realizing it, her path had already crossed with the man she would one day marry, Robert W. Molloy. They didn't date in high school and hardly knew one another, but Robert remembered her. He especially remembered the day he decided to leave school, slammed his books down in frustration, and looked up to see Phyllis nearby-startled, but smiling at him.

Years later, life brought them back together.

Phyllis and Robert went on to share 27 beautiful years of marriage. They were truly inseparable. Where you saw one, the other was rarely far behind. They walked through life side by side, through the wonderful years and the difficult ones, through adventures, family milestones, health challenges, laughter, loss, and everything in between.

Their relationship was the kind many people spend their lives hoping to find. They were not simply husband and wife; they were partners, companions, caregivers, and best friends. As Robert's health and physical abilities changed, Phyllis remained faithfully by his side, caring for him with patience and devotion. Through every chapter, they continued choosing one another.

After 27 years together, their lives had become so intertwined that it was difficult to imagine one without the other. Their marriage was a beautiful example of what it means to truly share a life with someone-to love one another not only during the easy moments, but through everything life brings.

As a young woman, Phyllis began working toward becoming a registered nurse. When her mother became ill, however, she stepped away from school to help care for her. Although she did not ultimately become a nurse, caring for others became one of the strongest themes throughout her life.

Over the years, Phyllis worked in several positions, including as an administrative assistant at the historic Hotel del Coronado in California and for the United States Postal Service.

She also loved to bake, and anyone lucky enough to enjoy something she made knew just how talented she was. Her baking was amazing, but like so many things Phyllis did, it was about more than the finished product. Making something special was another way she showed people she loved them.

In 1999, Phyllis entered the lives of Robert's children, Samantha and William Molloy. Samantha was 11, and William was only eight or nine. Becoming a blended family wasn't always simple, but Phyllis never stopped trying to build a relationship with them.

She formed her own special bond with each of them.

With Samantha came girls' days, jewelry, clothes, makeup, and special outings. One treasured memory was Phyllis taking her to Macy's to have her makeup professionally done and then buying her makeup of her own. What seemed like a fun girls' day at the time became a memory that would mean so much more years later.

Phyllis also shared a special relationship with William that belonged uniquely to the two of them. She loved him deeply, supported him through the different chapters of his life, worried about him, and cared about the man he became.

When Samantha and William lost their biological mother, Phyllis stepped forward even more. She never tried to erase or replace the mother they had lost. She simply continued loving, guiding, supporting, and showing up for them.

Eventually, there was no need for the word "step."

She was Mom.

That same love extended to Robert's father when he became ill. Phyllis cared for him attentively during the final years of his life, helping Robert make sure he was comfortable, cared for, and surrounded by love.

After his passing, Phyllis and Robert planned to begin a new chapter in Las Vegas. But shortly afterward, 20-year-old Samantha discovered she was pregnant. When Robert and Phyllis learned she needed them, their plans changed. Less than two months after leaving for Las Vegas and getting rid of much of what they owned, they returned to California and lived in a trailer so they could be there for her.

That story captures Phyllis beautifully.

When her family needed her, she came.

As the years passed, Phyllis became Grandma, a role she cherished deeply.

Her grandchildren-Izaiah Leyva, Adan Leyva, Sophia Mulford, and James Mulford-never knew her as a "step-grandmother."

She was simply Grandma.

And Phyllis had a special relationship with every one of them. She knew them as individuals, loved their different personalities, worried about them, spoiled them, traveled with them, and created memories with each of them that belonged uniquely to Grandma and that child.

So many of their childhood vacations, adventures, celebrations, and happiest memories included Grandma and Grandpa. During times when her family needed extra help, Phyllis stepped in without hesitation. Her grandchildren were not "step" anything to her, either.

They were hers, and she loved them that way.

Perhaps one of the easiest ways to describe Phyllis is simply to remember her face.

She had a light about her.

There was a brightness in her eyes and a gentleness in the way she carried herself. Her smile was warm, beautiful, and unmistakably hers. She was optimistic, compassionate, incredibly giving, and had a way of making kindness seem effortless.

Even when she was mad, it was difficult for Phyllis to seem mean. Even when she "yelled," somehow it never really sounded like yelling.

She simply didn't have much meanness in her.

Her favorite color was blue, a fitting color for someone remembered for such gentleness and warmth.

Phyllis leaves behind her beloved husband of 27 years, Robert W. Molloy; the children she loved as her own, Samantha and William Molloy; her beloved grandchildren, Izaiah Leyva, Adan Leyva, Sophia Mulford, and James Mulford; her twin brother, Phillip Romero; her siblings Alfred Romero, Robert B. Romero, and Susan M. Romero; as well as nieces, nephews, extended family, and friends whose lives were forever changed by knowing her.

She was preceded in death by her parents, Benelito and Mary F. Romero, and her brother, Arthur Romero.

Phyllis leaves behind much more than names on a family tree. She leaves stories, vacations, and childhood memories. She leaves the smell and taste of things baked with love. She leaves laughter, photographs, family traditions, and countless ordinary moments that have now become priceless.

Most importantly, she leaves behind people who knew what it felt like to be truly cared for by her.

She became a mother through years of showing up. She became Grandma through hugs, adventures, helping hands, worry, laughter, memories, and unconditional love. And for 27 years, she was the woman constantly beside Robert, the other half of a love story their family was fortunate enough to witness.

The nervous children Phyllis met in 1999 could never have known that the sweet woman standing in front of them with that gentle smile would someday become one of the most important women in their lives.

They wouldn't grow up thinking of her as their stepmother.

They would simply think of her as Mom.

And their children would simply know her as Grandma.

Sometimes the people who are destined to become our family arrive quietly, and then somehow it becomes impossible to imagine our story without them.

Phyllis Romero-Molloy will be deeply missed, forever loved, and remembered in every life she touched.