Laura I. Fletcher

Born in Alba, Texas on June 5, 1939, to the late Laura Lillian (Alexander) English and Joseph Wesley English, Laura is predeceased by 18 siblings and half-siblings. But her spirit is carried on by her devoted husband of 62 years, Wilson Lee Fletcher; 2 loving sons and their wives: Derek Leland Fletcher & Christine Elisabeth (Reed) Fletcher; Scott Lyle Fletcher & Raelene Sue (Hancock) Fletcher; 5 grandchildren, 2 great-granddaughters, her adoring sister Lynne Alexander and close family friends Jason Weigler and Kris Kizer who she loved as sons.

Laura graduated from Alba-Golden High School in 1957. She met Wilson in 1960 at First National Bank of Fort Worth where they both worked and later married on June 17, 1962. She was an Air Force wife in Greenville, Mississippi, a realtor for Senter Realtors in Abilene, a life insurance agent for Bankers Life, and a Loan Officer for USAA in San Antonio for over 20 years before retiring in 2013.

The job Laura loved and valued the most, though, was being a mother and grandmother. Her children were the absolute joy of her life, and she fully invested herself in them. Laura was their biggest cheerleader - encouraging their efforts in sports, music, academics, and careers, supporting them in whatever path they pursued. She was an ever-steady spiritual guide, ready with a word of wisdom, sound advice, or a wooden spoon on the rare occasions that called for it. Laura also opened her arms and heart to Derek and Scott’s childhood friends, whom she affectionately referred to as 'her children’ and were always welcome in her home for band practice, swimming, Halloween parties, or just any regular day after school. Jason, Kris and other friends were also included in many family vacations.

But parenting was simply a warm-up act for Laura. While some people devote their time and treasure to hobbies, Laura’s grandkids were her hobby. And she relished the role, taking childhood to a whole new level of fun.

She arranged for live bunnies to be their pets at Easter, beach vacations on the Gulf coast every June, visiting drive-through zoos, building pillow forts, Barbie castles and Lego cities in the living room, backyard carnivals with games and snow cone machines, swimming pools in the garage, inflatable water slides every summer, and countless hours of driving Lightning McQueen up and down the street to feed the neighboring horses or explore the woods behind the house. Every holiday visit and summer adventure ended with a personalized photo book for each grandchild and a “surprise” $5 bill tucked inside the last page.

Just as her fingertip found its way in front of the camera lens and onto the corner of countless pictures she took, Laura left an enduring imprint on her grandchildren Jake Holden Fletcher (27), Emily Hope (Fletcher) Ross (27), Sydney Lyn Fletcher (23), Grant Lawson Fletcher (23) and Gavin Dean Fletcher (17) who treasure those memories with her.

After retiring and moving to the Dallas area, Laura and Wilson regularly visited retirement homes to worship and share communion with those who were homebound. She had a unique gift for making the lonely and isolated feel special and loved.

A genuinely beautiful person, inside and out, Laura was a daughter of the King and an active, lifelong member of the Church of Christ - which explains how she was able to go about each day humming and singing so many hymns in acapella.

Laura leaves us with her legacy of unwavering faith, inner strength, selflessness, and a sunny disposition that could never be clouded - even in times of great trial and adversity. Laura lived her life with a heart of gratitude and a spirit of grit and grace.

A radiant light and blessing to everyone who knew her, Laura will be deeply missed by her family, which stretches from west to east Texas, and cherished friends at Eastridge Church of Christ in Rockwall. We take comfort in knowing she has run the race, fought the good fight, and now enjoys a banquet of bottomless chips, queso, and guacamole in a glorious mansion with a love-filled memory room and never-ending closet space.