A Mother’s Love, An Angel’s Strength: Yolanda’s story of resilience

Welcome to the extraordinary journey of Yolanda Iglesias—how the loss of her child, her angel, Enrique, reshaped her life in ways she could never have imagined.

At the start of every interview with the remarkable women we feature, we ask them to define a word that captures their essence. Following our last article on Kelly Lizano, we continued this tradition by asking Yolanda to define adaptation—a word she has undeniably lived through. Her answer: “a lesson, the constant surge of learning.” Yolanda had to learn to live differently—without the physical presence of someone who meant the world to her. Every day, she woke up wondering, “How do I get through today?” She had to hold everyone in her household together, including herself. She spoke about learning to “breathe, walk, and feel again,” and ultimately being able to thank the world for all that she had learned. In the first 30 seconds of the interview, she said, “I do not feel I have the right to not keep going.” Losing a parent makes you an orphan, but losing your child—there are no words for that pain. If this isn’t resilience, I don’t know what is.

Yolanda’s story begins as the story of a woman who, from the moment she was born, knew she wanted to be a mother—specifically, a mother of three. Today, she is the proud mother of three beautiful children, and she describes having the perfect family, her dream come true. Then, suddenly, her world was turned upside down. The clock seemed to stop when doctors told her that one of her sons, Enrique, her middle child, was diagnosed with an aggressive bone cancer at just 13 years old. 

Yolanda remembers walking into Enrique’s room after hearing the devastating news. He was sitting on his bed with a broad smile and said, “What’s wrong, Mom? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” She recalls how her lips were so white that Enrique, in his typical way, also noticed, adding, “Your lips are so white.” It was his way of acknowledging the bad news she had just received. From that moment on, Yolanda made a promise to herself: she would always wear lipstick, no matter what. She had to go home with Enrique, say nothing, and wake up the next day to face what she calls “the corridor of the devil.” Even now, she can’t quite understand how she made it through that day.

Despite losing his hair and battling a brutal disease, Enrique retained a beautiful spirit that Yolanda was fortunate to learn from. From the very beginning, doctors gave him little hope. The chances were so very slim, yet Yolanda and Enrique held on to hope for two and a half more years. Those years were filled with pain, but there was one thing that made it bearable: Enrique. He would play songs in the living room, like “What Will You Do When I’m Gone,” and joke, “Oh, Mom, I’m leaving you with these two annoying brothers and Dad—you better build up some patience!” His jokes lifted her spirits, even as he gently prepared her for the inevitable.

Yolanda and Enrique

One day, when Enrique was very ill, he expressed his desire to visit the sea. That moment sparked Yolanda’s love for the ocean, as Enrique said, “Mom, look closely. Imagine I’m not here, that I never come out of the sea, then look further, at the horizon. I’ll always be there.” It was a powerful moment that stayed with her forever. They also visited a theme park, where Enrique encouraged Yolanda to join him on one of the scariest rides—despite it being her greatest fear. “If you don’t face it, it will never go away, Mom,” he told her. They climbed higher and higher, and just before the drop, Enrique said, “Look again, Mom, look at the sea, the sun.”

Yolanda's family at a theme park

Yolanda poured all of her energy into making Enrique’s last two years as meaningful as possible, ensuring that he lived with as much joy as he could. They spent the months of his sickness traveling together, squeezing out every moment of joy. These bittersweet memories—visiting beautiful places, laughing through the pain, and living fully despite the circumstances—are the treasures Yolanda holds closest to her heart.

She recalls how, even in the midst of his suffering, Enrique would ask the doctors, “When can I play water polo again?” The doctor knew he wouldn’t, but she made it happen. She organized a match, and though Enrique was too sick to play, he scored his last goal with pride. Yolanda didn’t cry at that moment, though others expected it. She didn’t cry because all she felt was pride for her son, and one cried for sadness. Enrique showed the video of his last goal to his doctor, who was moved to tears. For Yolanda, that was one of the toughest memories—seeing Enrique understand that he would never play again.

Enrique's waterpolo match

Enrique lived more in his 16 years than many people do in a lifetime. Yolanda would relive it all again, just to have those 16 years with him.

As his condition worsened, Yolanda inevitably had to let her incredible angel fly. She recalls how she had to learn to sedate Enrique and how, in his final moments, the entire family camped out in his room. She remembers stepping away to go to the bathroom, and when she returned, she looked out the window and saw two birds soaring into the sky. Just then, Enrique stopped breathing—he had flown so very high.

The next moments were the hardest of Yolanda’s life. She had to prepare Enrique for the funeral home, and she insisted on being the one to do it. No one else was allowed to. She stayed with him for nearly two hours, completely still, absorbing his warmth—something she will carry with her for the rest of her life.

When it came time for Enrique’s funeral, Yolanda refused to wear black. Enrique had once said he didn’t want “black like cockroaches ”, so she wore his favorite dress instead. Two days before his passing, they had been planning a trip to Zanzibar. Though Enrique went beyond Zanzibar that day, he had one final wish: a tattoo with the word Sonríe—Smile. It was something he had learned from his mother: “Even in the worst moments, you smile, Mom.” And that’s exactly what Yolanda does every day. She reflects on how privileged she is to have had Enrique in her life, and she knows that, despite the pain, she is deeply fortunate. She can’t allow herself to falter when she has so much to be grateful for. Enrique, even sedated, had prepared for her mother to receive a gift on her birthday, so a week earlier, he ordered for a few people to make it happen - even asleep, he had managed to spoil his mom. 

Yolanda faces the public almost every day, as she manages some successful restaurants in Madrid. Yet behind the smiles and the perfection she had to inevitably project, she reveals the grand difficulty of how to maintain an image of strength while sometimes rotting on the inside. She reiterates, time and time again, how she was never at liberty to feel sorry for herself—she had to stand tall, knowing that Enrique, in some way, was still looking down on her. It was a sense of responsibility, a reminder that her strength was a legacy she had to honor.

She traveled to Mexico, a place she and Enrique had once dreamed of walking together, after watching his favourite film “Coco”.

Despite all the pain, she had to keep smiling. She also reiterates how there is nothing stopping her, she is not afraid of anything and has managed to triumph over the biggest adversity. She says, “I could travel to the other end of the world, but the only thing that holds me down is my purest trait—love.”

So, no, this is not a story with a traditional happy ending. But, Yolanda insists that this does not make it an unhappy one. She is a happy woman. A successful woman. A woman of three children. She knows that being unhappy would mean living a grim life, and her life has been a journey filled with the warmth of those she loves.

She even spoke with Enrique about getting a tattoo, a small symbol of Sonríe, just like his. Enrique, laughing uncontrollably, teased her, “Mom, be a little original—don’t copy me!” So Yolanda decided to tattoo a little bird, a symbol of freedom, with the “é” inside it. The bird represents living in the present, because, as Yolanda says, “Not in the past, and who knows what will happen in the future—no, now. Because what I have now, surrounded by all of you, that is special. And that is now.”

During the interview, I found myself wondering, How does this woman carry such strength and share such inspiring words after everything she has been through? At that moment, I understood the lesson she had learned—the one person who taught her how to carry it all was Enrique himself. When we were saying our goodbyes my sister told her to “stay strong”, she answered “no, I’m not strong every day, but resilience I have for me, for you, and for the whole block of neighbours.” 

Thank you Yolanda for sharing your amazing words❤️

Written by: Daniela Caro.   Interviewed by: Daniela Caro