Fleta Dawn Frye, age 58, of Lamont entered into rest Sunday morning November 28th, 2004, at Integris Bass Hospital in Enid, Oklahoma. Services will be held on Wednesday December 1st, 2004 at 2:00 p.m. in the Prairie View Assembly of God Church at 223 South Maple in Lamont with Reverend Andy Vaughan officiating. Internment will follow in the Lamont Cemetery. Services are under the direction of Anderson Funeral Home of Tonkawa.
Fleta Dawn is survived by her husband, Delmer of the home and five daughters: Jamie Diefenbach of Farmington, New Mexico, Maria Elena Parson, Herminia and husband Eddie Shelton, Yolanda and husband Ray Gillion of Lamont and Nina Ann Ehnen of Dover and one son Harold Keith Ent and wife Marie of Alva, two sisters Cathy Springer and Thelma Gene Lucas and one brother Larry James.
Her parents, grandparents, one sister, one brother and a son-in-law preceded her in death.
Fleta Dawn had 27 surviving grandchildren. She was a mother to many and a friend to all. Memorials may be sent to the Prairie View Assembly of God Church
The name above in red is me. This is the first and only time I'll publish my name here, but for her sake I'll do it so as to do her honor here. I'd like to tell you that my mother was always a saint, but that would be a lie of the greatest magnitude. Without going into any details let me say that there are so many statistics that I and my sisters have been classified under to make a Dept. of Human Services worker cry. My youth had very few good memories and my mother's choices in men had much to do with this. She jumped right into being a mother at a VERY young age and unfortunately being a mother did not come with a manual. She made some horrendous and scarring errors in our upbringing. Think of a type of abuse and I will bet that it happened to me and my sisters at some point. The fact that I survived my childhood and came out of it as well adjusted as I have is thanks only to God.
That brings me to the point of this post. My mother is a testament to the power of redemption and forgiveness. Some years back,(in truth, too far back for me to remember clearly) my mother found her faith and grabbed a hold of it like a dying man grabs driftwood in a raging river. She has been at times a fighter, drinker, smoker, honky-tonker(one day I'll relate the story of her trying to slap Conway Twitty.), and general bad girl. But that turned around somewhere this side of 20 years ago. I don't know exactly how it happened but I do know that it happened and it was for real.
My Mother fell in love with her Lord and clung to him in selfless service every chance she got. Like me she had her opinions and if you didn't care to hear them it was best if you didn't sit down at her table. However, I don't know of many who would have passed up a chance to put their feet under her table. On a shotgun modest living she somehow managed to feed all of us and still have enough for the kids that would be an endless parade through her home. Her dedication to her Lord was not easy for her, especially in the last 2 years of her life.
On her way home from another city some 40 miles away a farmer ran a stop sign pulling the header to a wheat combine. For those that care to google it, you get the idea. The wreck left my step-father and niece unharmed for the most part. My mother was not so lucky. She broke her leg in several places and her ball joint in her hip had an x-fracture right across the top. They did at least two surgeries that I know of to install a rod in her leg and try to correct the breakage. Unfortunately, my mother had diabetes and was also a rather large woman at that point in her life. The breaks wouldn't heal. I took time away from work to help tend to her for about 90 days after her last trip into the hospital. I remember late at night, she'd cry out in agony for the Lord to either heal her or take her home. This happened EVERY night. She couldn't get to the bathroom by herself and I'd have to take care of that and clean any accidents that might happen and the shame she felt was almost as intense as the pain. Through the worst of it, I stayed and took care of her as best as I could. Through it all, her faith never wavered.
She eventually got some better and moved from the farm that she and my stepfather lived in to the old parsonage for her church. The current pastor owned his own home and the church let them live their for a pittance. She was gifted with an old electric wheel chair that she quite literally drove the wheels right off, going to and from the church, 2 blocks away. Every moment she could she was working in the church or with the youth group. "Sister Dawny" never complained in front of her church and she always had a smile for her "kids" in the youth group. She used her current situation and her past life as a method of ministering to the troubled youth and I really believe that she was able to reach them when others couldn't because she was the real thing. Sinner turned saint. And that is the God's honest truth, at the end, she was just that; a Saint.
In her hospital room, the stories told of her death(I was not able to get there before she died) relate a woman who was praising her lord and praying hard almost with her last breath. And in the End, her lord took the pain away before he took her home.
Even if I hadn't known her as my Mother, to have known her and her story, to have witnessed the miracles of her life( and there were many honest to God miracles) I am left to wonder how anyone can say that God no longer takes an active interest in our lives. I am the man I am, in part, because of her faith. I hope that I live my life from here out half as well as she lived hers.
God bless you and keep you Mom. And happy Birthday.
Fleta Dawn Frye
Born July 27, 1946- Died Nov. 28th, 2004.