Judith T Fortyz

Judith T. Fortyz, born November 6, 1942, passed away on April 30, 2026, at the age of 83. Judith’s life was shaped by resilience, hard work, and a determination that carried her through challenges most people never saw. She learned early that survival required strength, and she met life with a toughness that became both her armor and her legacy.

Judith worked a wide range of jobs throughout her life, always doing whatever was needed to support her family and keep moving forward. She was especially proud to have been part of the early Computer and IT industry, stepping into a field that was just beginning to take shape. It was a point of pride for her—proof that she could adapt, learn, and hold her own in spaces where few women were given room.

Her favorite role, though, was working as an independent vendor, where she spent her days meeting people from every walk of life. She loved the rhythm of it—the conversations, the personalities, the small connections that made each day feel different. It was work that suited her: independent, social, and rooted in the real world.

Judith was the mother of Debra Torres Fortyz, and the grandmother of Jasmin Bridges, Ashliana Mendizabal, and Raven Odufunade. She was also the great‑grandmother of Kenzi Moy, Jett Bridges, and Braxton Ramos, each of whom brought new joy and a softer light into her later years. She shared a lifelong bond with her beloved sister and cousin, Lucy Caraballo, a relationship built on history, stubbornness, laughter, and a deep understanding that only family can hold.

Judith wasn’t always gentle, and she didn’t always express love in the ways people hoped for. Her edges could be sharp, and her expectations could be heavy. But beneath that exterior was someone who cared deeply in her own way—through providing, through showing up, through pushing forward even when life felt unsteady. Her love wasn’t always soft, but it was steady, and it was real.

Those who knew her will remember her honestly: a woman who worked hard, who endured more than she ever explained, and who passed down strength—sometimes as a gift, sometimes as a lesson. Her life was imperfect, complicated, and fully human, and that is part of what makes her story meaningful.