Claudell Stallings

Claudell Stallings, 85, of Barling, Arkansas, passed away on October 23, 2025, while surrounded by her daughters and granddaughter. She was a retired LPN, an active pickleball enthusiast, and a collector of carousel horses and angels. She was also a member of Eastside Baptist Church.

Claudell is survived by her two daughters, Robin Stallings and Rain Story. She is also survived by five grandchildren, one of whom was a special caregiver, Jessica Varner. She is preceded in death by her sister, Velta Gambill; her son, Brand Stallings; grandson, Christopher Strozier; great grandson, LJ Hess and her great granddaughter, Corina Bernard.

Funeral service will be 2 p.m., Monday, October 27 at East Side Baptist Church in Fort Smith with a private family burial at Liberty Cemetery under the direction of McConnell Funeral Home of Greenwood. Viewing will begin at 1 p.m. on Monday at the church.

Our mother, was a creature of beauty, power, and mystique. Her warm chestnut hair greyed over time, like soft, wispy snowflakes settling over a majestic, towering oak, covering it with beauty, strength, and a magical aura of tranquility.

And with her hazel eyes that flickered sometimes with amber, and sometimes with green—the mysteriousness behind her thoughts were alluring and yet nurturing and renewing.

Her tall, thin frame and magnificent, stunning features led many to tell her she should have been a movie star when she was younger. They weren’t wrong.

She couldn’t carry a tune very well, and she was not an avid reader of books; however, she was incredibly intelligent and graduated from high school at the age of 16. Later, she went on to nursing school. The compassion in her heart led her to care for newborn babies at Mercy Hospital for several years before retiring.

And her athleticism was something else to be commended. She played basketball and other sports in high school and rode horses around the farm and on trail rides. In her later years, she learned how to play pickleball and became quite a star among her pickleball friends.

She was a compassionate mother and grandmother. She loved us, her kids, and she loved her grandchildren with all she had within her and wished she could have spent more time with them than what she had been given.

She was shy, and she was not a public speaker, but when it came to family, she would fight for them with all she had, whatever it took, unless it meant harming someone else. She would not think of crossing those boundaries. She stayed in her lane and waited for others to come to her and meet her halfway. And that was because she felt that they needed to make as much of an effort and investment in the relationship as she did.

If you were a close friend of my mom, you already knew all these things. And if you were a close family member, well, she knew that, too, because she showed up for you, and you showed up for her, during the best of times and during the worst of times.

Our mother was so compassionate that she would have given all the clothes she had and every penny she had to help someone less fortunate than herself. She just couldn’t bear the thought of someone suffering needlessly, when she could make a difference.

Like her mother and her grandmother before her, Mom was a strong woman—a woman warrior—even though it wasn’t always publicly known. It took a lot of strength to suffer all she did for decades in an abusive marriage. She suffered things that tore her heart out, day after day, after day to make sure her children grew up in an unbroken home. Then, she realized the damage had already tore us apart, so she mustered the strength and courage to leave and stand on her own two feet after 47 years of domination.

She stood up for herself and fought for things she felt were “right” and beautiful, and just. Mom had courage beyond what she thought she had, and courage that many could never attempt to act on.

She extended that courage to us, especially to my sister, Robin, my daughter, Jessica, and me. Thanks to her, we all three have those traits handed down from the women warriors in Mom’s family tree. We have a part of her within us that carries us forward, step-by-step every single day, fighting, struggling, hoping, and believing that the very next step will lead to something more beautiful, joyful, and peaceful, if we just have the courage to take that one more step forward.

That thing that you want but you fear, do that thing!

Because that thing that we hope for and pray for is there, waiting for us to show up.

You know why? Because we believe it with all of our hearts. That is what Mom passed on to us, whether you knew her as a dear friend or close family member.

If you ever want to see a side of our mother that maybe you hadn’t recognized before, you can just look into any of our eyes, my sister, my daughter, or me, and there you will see a piece of Claudell, her strength, determination, and her features. She’s not gone. She still lives within us and each of you whom she touched.

Her spirit will be by us day-by-day, guiding us and giving us strength to chase one more day, one more week, one more month, one more year into the future with compassion, empathy, faith, strength, and most of all, courage.

And if you knew Claudell, and you were a friend to her, you know that she wasn’t one to make superficial friendships. She made friendships that lasted a lifetime and will continue to last in those who loved her and shared living life on this earth with her. If you participated in the experience of Claudell, I don’t have to remind you of all the beautiful things that she embodied.

Nothing defined our mother more than her last moments on this earth:

•She fought to live with everything she had.

•When she finally accepted that her transition was inevitable, she cried, she prayed, and she hoped for peace for everyone.

•She called out each of her grandchildren’s names, repeatedly, vowing to carry their names and their faces in her heart always.

•She recited scripture, stared at photos of loved ones who have already passed, and pleaded with us to keep trying to stay in contact with estranged loved ones.

•And when the deeper, primordial emotions of her suffering began to surface, she did the best she could to stay even-keeled and not upset those of us around her.

•When the downturn came and it appeared that she was most upset, she was just fighting to survive, thinking that if only she could live one more day, she could fix a few things left undone.

•Until her last moment, the names of those she loved were on her lips.

To those who visited, comforted, and loved our mother, thank you for taking the time to reach out to her. Even when she was no longer responsive, she knew—she knew.

To the medical professionals, nurses, and aides, thank you for your strength and perseverance. You touched our mother’s heart and made a difference to all of us.

Thanks to Rev. Mark Weaver for driving from NWA to visit our mother. She loved you, trusted you, and admired you for your dedication to making sure her spiritual needs were met.

To her pickleball friends, thanks for being like family to our mother. Those years of being so active and happy in your group was a priceless gift to her, and in turn, a gift to us, her daughters and granddaughter.

To our beloved family members who showed up when things got really tough, thank you. Our bonds with you all will always be strong and deeply treasured.

To those who showed up for our mother today, thank you. Whether you realize it or not, you will carry a little piece of her in your heart when you leave here today.

Take the positive things Claudell has given you and live each day with purpose, gratitude, joy, forgiveness, determination, and most of all, love.

Please understand that Mom is carrying your names to heaven with her to make sure the angels and others know you are special and worth fighting for.

~ Rain