Sharon Matlock's Obituary
In Loving Memory of
Sharon Sue Matlock
August 7, 1947 - June 29, 2026
You can't remember Sue without taking a moment to talk about her parents, Cecil and Estelle, and her wonderful sister, Ruth Ann. Cecil and Estelle McConnell put Christ first in every part of their lives - living by example, in the way they lived and in the way they prayed. Both Sue and Ruth Ann chose to follow Christ in that same way. Sue chose and secured her life in Christ on August 29, 1954, at the age of seven, at Crowell Heights Church.
Ruth Ann would describe Sue as the best sister ever. She spoke of how creative Sue was - writing poems and plays for her sister and cousins to perform. She was a ringleader who could get everyone to go along with whatever she dreamed up. And when Ruth Ann walked through difficult, uncertain times with her health, Sue was right there beside her, hugging her and loving her through it.
As a child, Sue and her sister, Ruth Ann, spent many, many hours with their grandparents, aunts, uncles, and cousins. She loved family reunions and outdoor gatherings, playing in barns and on barn swings, and eating fresh watermelon straight from the fields.
Growing up, Sue was one of the "three musketeers." She, Becky, and Hazel. They spent countless hours together - lots of laughter, lots of orneriness, and so many memories made. Sadly, Becky and then Hazel both went to be with the Lord before her. It's fun now to imagine the three of them reunited again, and all the heavenly mischief they're surely up to.
Thankful for a Christ-focused family it was important to Sue that her future husband know the Lord. Ed felt the Lord's calling and gave his life to Christ in the living room of their pastor, Brother Scott, of Calvary Baptist Church, on October 5, 1969. Sue and Ed were later married July 2nd, 1970.
Because the Gibson family was so large and so loved, Ed and Sue chose to keep their wedding small, so as not to hurt anyone's feelings because they couldn't possibly invite everyone. As it turned out, Becky was less than impressed that she - the matchmaker - didn't get to attend. But all was forgiven, and as married adults the three musketeers kept right on having fun: playing games, laughing and talking, and keeping up with one another through the years.
It can't go unnoticed that just last weekend would have marked their fifty-sixth wedding anniversary. We take comfort that, although they aren't celebrating together this year, someday they will share an eternal celebration of heavenly things together.
Shortly after their wedding, Ruth Ann married Bob Reid, and for the first time Sue had a brother. Joyfully, they all became close, and the Matlock's and the Reids would go on many adventures together over the years. While Bob was in seminary in Fort Worth, Ed and Sue would drive down to visit - making memories at Six Flags, at a Billy Graham crusade, and simply spending time together before the children began to arrive. Sue loved to tell the story of how she, the tomboy, wound up with three little girls - while her sister Ruth Ann, who was a lot more girly, wound up with three little boys.
Jamie arrived on November 20, 1973. And then, much to Ed and Sue's surprise, a set of twins - Tracy and Beverly - arrived on April 27, 1976. In those days, ultrasounds weren't a thing. Sue grew so large that her family kept saying, "It must be twins. It must be twins." Finally, her doctor did an X-ray sometime in March and asked, "Would you like to see a picture of your babies?" In shock, she walked down to the car, where Estelle was waiting with two-and-a-half-year-old Jamie in tow. Estelle said, "Well?" Sue said, "Yes." And they didn't speak another word the rest of the drive home. In less than a month Ed and Sue welcomed twin girls. When people would fawn over the twins out and about, she always made sure they saw Jamie, too, so that all three of her girls would be loved and adored equally.
Sue and Ed often got asked why they didn't try again for a boy. Sue loved to share Ed's retort: "When they start coming two at a time, it's time to stop." They finally got their boys years later, as the grandkids began to arrive.
Sue had the joy of staying home with all three of her girls until they were of school age. At that time, she began her next adventure at Bixby Public Schools, where she would serve for nearly forty years in a variety of roles and made so many lifelong friends and memories.
Wherever she worked, Sue was a joy to the people around her - making life in the office more fun, celebrating Elvis's birthday, and finding any excuse to make people laugh. There was the time she and a friend skipped down the hallway of Central Elementary singing "Tiptoe Through the Tulips." As the attendance secretary at the high school, she loved to say she was the person who was lied to the most - teens standing in front of her insisting they came as fast as possible, all while holding the thirty-two-ounce soda they'd obviously stopped to get. She loved those kids. But she also placed her expectations and her love on them. If she ever heard a student speaking to a parent in a way they shouldn't, she'd cover the receiver and say, "If you want to talk to your mom that way, that's your business. But you will not talk to her that way in front of me."
When she worked as the athletic secretary, Bixby was getting ready to add turf to the football field - so she would joke that she kept grass on her desk. Her last role was in the administration building, where she helped with all things money-related and got to know a whole new set of people, adding more lifelong friends and memories to the mix. Eventually, Sue retired from Bixby Public Schools and moved into a fun new season of life with Ed - many trips with friends, and many more hours spent laughing, talking, and making memories together.
Sue loved puzzles and cooking - cooking with family in particular. She loved spending time with family in the kitchen, or out and around, laughing and playing games. She loved hosting holidays, gatherings, and parties, vacationing with family and friends, planning showers, and celebrating the people in her life.
Ed and Sue became active members at First Baptist Church of Bixby, and in later years attended Crossroads Church in Bixby. They taught Sunday school for the youth group for many, many years, and taught VBS for many summers. She loved hosting the youth events at their home, and planning and helping decorate parties at the church.
Over the years, they no longer taught youth in a formal setting, but they became a light to so many young people around Bixby and beyond. Sue extended her love of youth to her girls' friends. She was known to many as Mama Matlock. She drove kids to play practices, swim practices, and school and church events. She never missed an opportunity to be there for her own kids - but also for her kids' friends, who became family. She loved them unconditionally. It was important to her to know and love them just as they were.
She made a place for everyone who came through the door to feel loved, to have fun, and to feel safe. She always took an interest. She would ask questions, and she would truly listen. She believed youth are important, and that time with them shouldn't be wasted. She gave advice in person - but what many of them didn't know was how hard she prayed for them behind the scenes.
Sue made everything fun. When the girls were young, they once walked over to the junior high to decorate a locker, and along the way a very "wholesome" young man mooned them. Sue took a mental note - and a year later, right on the anniversary, she surprised the family with moon pies for dessert When we would shop at the mall, she'd bring some real options into the dressing room, but tucked somewhere in the stack of hangers would be one wildly inappropriate something she'd "zing" us with - the kind of thing we might try on for a laugh but would never in a million years buy.
She was quick-witted and known for her zingers, her jokes, and her habit of intentionally getting a song stuck in your head. She was known for her laugh, her grin, and the genuine smile that lit up when you walked into a room. We laugh that her love language was sarcasm - but really, it was also all of the prayers we never even knew she was praying.
Mom loved music, and her collection was wonderfully eclectic. Even in her final months, she was still introducing new music and videos to her grandkids - which is probably why they've all ended up with such eclectic taste, too. We remember cleaning the house with all kinds of music blaring, dancing through the living room.
As the girls grew, the family changed. She prayed us through relationships and through changes, as she welcomed her new sons. She prayed us through great times, and through some very difficult losses. Over the years, she had the joy of becoming grandma to nine grandchildren and three great-grandchildren. She celebrated and cherished each one of them, prayed specifically for each one of them, delighted in each one of them, and is so proud of who they are all becoming.
The grandkids loved to call and visit, to send memes, to laugh, to talk about serious things, and to introduce their significant others - they even tell stories to their grandparents they sometimes hadn't even shared with their own parents. It brought her immense joy to know that, as much as she loved them, they loved her just as much right back. Every conversation ended in prayer.
Mom actively pursued the Lord. She kept a daily quiet time, where she read her Bible, studied the Word, journaled, and prayed - and then prayed some more. Her prayers were so specific that she would sometimes ask you about a situation or an issue you might not even remember telling her about. She had been a prayer warrior for all of us since before we were born. I imagine everyone in this room has been prayed for by her at some point. She kept journals where she listed her prayers by name, and she would go back through them to add to the prayers - but also to add the praises. Those praises refined her faith and her joy, as she celebrated our Lord and celebrated for all of us as He met our needs.
In 2005 - as many of you know - our family walked through a very difficult year. Together we experienced deployments and births, career and family changes, a kidney transplant, and immense loss. It was that same year that Sue first heard the diagnosis of COPD.
But in that year, and in all the years that followed, none of it stopped her from being there for every one of us. Even when carrying her own burdens, she showed up - all while caring for and loving her family so well.
In recent years, Sue's health declined. A year ago, she and Ed went to a doctor's appointment where they learned they had to make an almost impossible choice: whether to go through an experimental surgery that might extend her life, or to wait and let nature take its course. Sue and Ed believed so strongly in her certainty with Jesus that they chose the surgery.. She knew going in that it would be good either way: whether she woke up to more time with us, or woke to be with our Lord and so many others she loved who had gone before her.
We were so grateful she made it through the surgery, and that we were given more time. But that choice did not come without cost. This past year, Sue endured many hospitalizations, many stays in skilled rehab, and many long hours at home - trying to get stronger. Despite the toll, she kept her sense of humor. She kept loving us deeply. She was there for us, whether by phone or in person - still listening, still engaging - but most of all, still praying.
Sue was a light - to all of us, and to everyone she came in contact with. This last year, wherever she was Sue was a beacon pointing to Christ. Even when she was so sick, she kept her sense of humor and her intention to bring life and light to those around her. If she saw someone who seemed to be having a bad day, or maybe a little grumpy, it became her mission to make that person smile - and it brought her so much joy, a real victory, when that smile finally emerged.
At St. Francis, at OSU Medical Center, at St. John Rehab, and at Ignite, she made that kind of impact. Status never mattered to her. The custodial staff, the techs, the nurses, the doctors - you were important to her. She thanked you and appreciated what you were doing. She made people feel important, because they were: she asked about their lives, their families, and where they came from. The staff would find their way back around whenever they had a spare moment - sitting on the edge of the bed, or lingering by the door, just to visit a little longer.
Sue loved everyone, and she wanted everyone to know what brought her life and love: God. Whether she spoke it directly, or simply through the way she treated you, that was always her intention. Just a few days ago, Dad received a phone call from a wonderful, godly man at Ignite - calling simply to say he was thinking of them and praying for them. A gesture he didn't have to make, but a reflection of the impact that Sue and Ed have had on everyone around them.
Sue was preceded in death by her parents, Cecil and Estelle McConnell, and by her son-in-law, Bryan Staton.
She is survived by her husband, Ed; her three daughters and their husbands, Jamie and Will Webb, Tracy and Brian Largent, and Beverly and Brian Bryan; her sister and brother-in-law, Ruth Ann and Bob Reid; her nephews, Chris Reid, Jeff and Emily Reid, and Stephen and Tiffany Reid; a great-nephew, Luke Reid, and a great-niece, Sophia Reid; her grandchildren, Emily, and Tracy Eisensmith, Gage Dunson, Connor Largent, Jacob Staton, Cal and Omar Laguna, Emily Allison Largent, Andrew Staton, Emma Webb, and Boaz Bryan; and her three great-grandchildren, Louie Eisensmith, Mateo Laguna, and Archie Eisensmith.
Sue, you spent your whole life pointing us to Jesus - at the family table, in the youth room, in a hospital bed, and on your knees with a journal full of prayers. You made every person who came through your door feel loved, and seen. You loved us all the way home.
We take comfort in knowing exactly where you are, and Who you are with. We can picture you now - halo just a little tilted, smile as welcoming as ever - celebrating with all those who went before you, in that eternal celebration you always believed in.
When thinking of Sue imagine a row of little cherub angels - all of them serene, their robes neat and tidy, their halos shiny and perfectly straight. And imagine Sue right in the middle : her robe maybe just a little askew, her halo just a teeny bit tilted, and a smile on her face. No less angelic - just so welcoming, and oh so relatable.
We love you, Sue. Thank you for praying us through. We'll see you again.
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