Cathy Sue Caridi

Cathy Sue Caridi, born in Bennettsville, South Carolina to Neil McEachern Bundy and Mary Sue Dudley, fell asleep peacefully and simply didn't wake up - a quiet exit for a woman who lived anything but a quiet life. She was 69.
She leaves behind her four children, Cheryl, Raina, Gary, and Kaitlyn - her "greatest story," as she often said - her lifelong partner and dear friend Fransisco Leon, her brother Neil McEachern Bundy Jr., her former husband Douglas Caridi, and her two beloved cats (allergies be damned).
Cathy was a force. A Southern girl with big personality, and big opinions. She was tough, witty, tender, sarcastic, spiritual, a bit stubborn, and always curious about the world - especially how it worked, where it went wrong, and how it might be fixed.
She raised four children with grit, love, and a strong arm for discipline (and dance parties). Once they were all school-aged, she hit the workforce in full swing, juggling odd jobs before climbing the ranks at US Airways, where she quickly landed in management - a role she handled with the same flair she brought to everything else. She was Cathy with a "C".
Cathy loved music - the louder and more live, the better. As a young woman, she once traveled with a band as a stagehand, a time she recalled fondly and often. If there was music nearby, she'd be dancing, humming, or dragging you to dance with her. Her love of live performances was matched only by her love of a good deal - Dollar General, beware. She could fill a cart without a list and justify every purchase with, " it's only money. You can't take it with you, so spend it while you got it."
She was a dreamer, a seeker, and a believer - in people, in God, and in the possibility that everything has a meaning. She spent many years pioneering and preaching, searching for spiritual truth and connection. She was a historian at heart, a reader by nature, and a philosopher when the night got quiet.
She spoiled her kids (unapologetically), never missed a school play, spring concert, a doctors appointment, or graduation. She taught them how to dance, and never hesitated to offer a shoulder, a meal, or a strong opinion. She had a soft spot for misfits and outsiders, often making those who felt invisible feel like the center of the universe. She once brought a homeless man home to feed him and get him cleaned up - not her safest decision, but absolutely on-brand for someone whose kindness knew no bounds. The neighborhood cats, kids, and strangers all knew her name.
She had a gift for making a home feel like a refuge - even if that meant force-feeding you leftovers and giving you chores. Cathy couldn't walk into a party without helping clean up before dessert. She adored hydrangeas, dahlias, and the beach (especially with a questionable amount of tanning oil). Monster Energy and Budweiser could've sponsored her retirement, and she firmly believed SPF was optional.
In her final years, Cathy slowed down. She reflected. She carried her regrets quietly and her love loudly. Losing her mother in 2021 carved a space in her heart that never quite filled. She stayed funny, thoughtful, and full of opinions until the very end.
Her favorite songs were Free by Zac Brown Band and Into the Mystic by Van Morrison. And now, she is. Free. Into the mystic, at last.
She is gone from our sight, but not from our stories, our songs, and our dances in the kitchen and around the car. We will carry you with us - in every laugh, every road trip, every time we see a flower too bright to ignore.
We love you endlessly. We miss you always. And we will make you proud.