Catherine Ann Quinlan

 Catherine Ann Quinlan, passed away peacefully in her sleep this Thursday in the Holy City of Charleston, South Carolina. She was an incredible mother.
Catherine spent many successful years as a Chef and Banquet Manager in several five star hotels. She had a gift for fashion and travel, and she was happiest on a sunny beach. She adored her little black Schnauzer, Maxwell, to the moon and back.
In 1989, we immigrated to America with my father, Oliver, with little more than a few dollars in our pockets. Through hard work and determination, she helped build a life here, one that allowed me to graduate college, pursue a career in hospitality, and purchase our first home.
She was a strong Irish woman, effortlessly talented in all the ways you cannot teach. Her dream was always to retire in Charleston near the beach and the sun. Over the past two years, she was blessed with the chance to spend meaningful time here, thanks to the support of close friends, visiting islands, making new friends, and creating memories that will be cherish forever.
In recent years, she faced life head on with grace, dignity, and perseverance through challenges that would have overwhelmed most people. This past year especially, she rose to become the best version of herself.

Catherine shared a special bond with her surviving son, Stephen Quinlan.
She used to tell me, “You will miss me when I am gone!” Ain’t that the truth, Mom.
For those who knew and loved her, please feel free to share a memory in the comments. I like to think she is now walking along the beach with our beautiful Labrador, Ceasar, who we lost on June 28, soaking up every bit of sun as it sets over Kiawah Island.
If you have the chance, call that loved one, rent that silly sports car, take that trip you have always talked about, and tell the people in your life that you love them before they are gone.
And if the universe didn’t already have a sense of humor, I will be laying my mother to rest on none other than St. Patrick’s Day. I think that is her way of looking down on us and giving one last cheeky wink.