Amanda Kay Culps

My first memory is of my sister. I must have been around three when she woke me up from the darkness.

“Daniel! Hurry! Turn the light on!” she yelled.

“What happened!?” I asked, waking up startled.

“Just hurry and turn the light on!”

I got up and walked over to the light switch. When I flipped it on, I saw her crouched in her bed like a sprinter in their starting position. “What’s wrong?” I asked.

“There’s a doctor under my bed.”

“A doctor?” I chuckled. “Where did he come from?”

“I don’t know. Maybe the window.”

“But the window is closed,” I said.

“I just know he’s under my bed,” she insisted.

She spoke with such conviction I started worrying a man in a white coat might pop out and grab me at any moment. I motioned to be quiet and then pointed under her bed. As I crouched down to see for myself, I was shocked by glimpses of white fabric and prepared to start screaming. Right before I did, I got a full view of the monster, wrestled it out from under the bed, and lifted it up to show her. “Look! It’s just a pillow!” I proclaimed.

“A pillow? No, that’s not it. He’s in here,” she said, unconvinced.

“Well, he’s not under your bed. Let me check my bed.” I bent down to check. “Nope. Not under my bed either.” We both turned our eyes to the closet. I walked over and pulled the door open. There was nothing but clothes. I walked inside to prove nobody was there. With that, she was satisfied my inspection of the premises had been thorough and went back to sleep.

Amanda never let me forget that story. She had a quirky sense of humor, which is what made her fun to be around. Anytime she got upset with me she would say, “This is just like the time you didn’t do anything about the doctor under my bed.” It was one of those inside jokes that never got old. She always got an easy laugh from it.

When she was pregnant with her daughter Hailey, she announced the news to me by sliding a tight shirt over her pregnant belly and performing a ballet between me and the TV. Part of her charm was the enthusiasm she had for her own jokes. It was infectious. She loved to make herself laugh as much as she enjoyed making others laugh.

Amanda was also hardworking, reliable, generous, caring, and strong. She hated letting people down. I dreaded my birthday this year because I thought she might not have the strength to wish me a happy birthday. Amanda would never forget my birthday. The day came and each time I checked my phone her name was missing. I gave up hope, but at 10:55 pm a text came thru - Happy Birthday! I couldn’t believe it. She made it with an hour to spare. I smiled and text her back that I loved her. There was no response. I knew she used every bit of strength she had to make sure she didn’t let me down one last time. It was the best gift anyone’s ever given me.

It’s a strange thing to attempt to capture the life of a loved one in a few words– as if there were some arrangement of letters and punctuation capable of embodying the spirit of a soul. The best I can do is say I will miss having someone I could always depend on. I will miss the laughter she filled every room with. And, in my darkest moments, I will miss hearing her voice yell, “Daniel! Hurry! Turn the light on!”

When we were young, my sisters and I were taught “Our bodies are buried in brokenness, but they will be raised in glory.” (1 Corinthians 15:43, NLT)

And so, it is with saddened but hopeful hearts, we announce that our beloved sister, daughter, mother, and aunt has been raised in glory. Amanda Kay Culps passed away on March 20, 2023, at the age of 43.

Amanda is survived by her daughter, Hailey Dollens; her sister, Michelle Mathis; her nieces, Lilli Mathis and Tabitha Mathis; her nephew, Jayden Mathis; her brother, Daniel Culps; her mother, Melody Culps; her father, David Culps; and last, but not least, her two loyal dogs, Charlie and Tallulah.

We love you, sister! You’ve always been a light in the darkness, and we will carry your afterglow with us forever.

The family has elected to have a private ceremony with immediate family members. If you would like to show your support for the family, the best way to do that is to donate to the Houston SPCA in Amanda’s honor. She was an animal lover her whole life, and nothing would make her happier than to know people were helping animals. Here’s how:

1. Follow this link: https://act.houstonspca.org/a/donate

2. To let the family know you made a gift, there’s a checkbox you can select for “I’d like you to notify someone of this contribution”

3. In the box for the Recipient email, use the email address [email protected]