WILMA JANE CLIFTON
Wilma Jane Clifton, the daughter of the late William J. Mayfield and Bessie Odell (Cook) Mayfield, was born January 7, 1926, in Paden, Oklahoma. She entered into eternal rest on September 20, 2015, in Amarillo, Texas, at the age of 89.
Wilma was preceded in death by her husband, Roy Clifton in January 2015, her parents, two brothers, Vernon Edmund and Derl Mayfield, and her son-in-law Norbert Cannon.
Survivors include her four children: Cindy Cannon of Amarillo, Texas, David Clifton and wife Anne of Boise City, Oklahoma, Tim Clifton and wife Lynda of Fritch, Texas, and Bill Clifton and wife Lori of Las Vegas, New Mexico; two sisters, Gerri Bocock of Colorado City, Texas and Mary Ann Winningham of Missoula, Montana; six grandchildren, twenty-one great grandchildren, and an endless list of other relatives and friends.
Born the second of five children, Wilma spent her adolescent years living in Prague, Oklahoma. As a youth, she worked along side her family milking cows and taking care of their small farm. Wilma would occasionally speak of her days spent in the cotton fields filling baskets by hand, and having to wear long sleeves and pants to keep the chiggers out. The Mayfield's would travel to Oklahoma City during cotton season to earn additional money. Local farmers knew them fro their picking ability, and the family easily found work. While the cotton harvest was hard, manual labor, it ensured that they would have a good Christmas and new shoes for Easter, which was more than most families had at that time. When Wima was six years old, she was finishing household choirs and went to start a fire in the stove. Her brother asked to blow out the match and it landed in her shirt catching her clothing on fire. Wilma was severely burned and permanently scarred by the accident, yet she always reflected positively on life, a trait that revealed the fortitude of her character.
When she was 18, Wilma moved to Boise City, Oklahoma to find work and live with her Aunt Ollie. She found work as a waitress and later a telephone operator, soon meeting Roy Clifton who had returned from WWII. The two would eventually wed in Clayton, New Mexico and begin a 65 year marriage that would fill their lives with a daughter and three sons. Together, Wilma and Roy worked hard and loved life. The were active members of the First Baptist Church of Boise City, traveled the summers in their 5th wheel camper, preformed a part of a square dance group,and provided a home for foster children. Wilma lived most of her life four miles south of Boise City on the Clifton family farm. It was here that she spent her days maintaining near self-sufficiency for her family through gardening, canning, grinding flour and maintaining a chicken coup. Last summer, David and Anne found and asparagus patch from Wilma,s old garden still growing strong. Like her, it too was resilient. Wilma also worked for years as a cook and a custodian for the Boise City Schools, a job that provided unharnessed summertime entertainment for her grand kids. Our grandma was an incredible woman. Unlike so many "Grandma's", she was never "Old", in my young eyes. Maybe this was a product of childhood naivety or maybe it was a loving blindness, but I believe it was a loving blindness, but I believe it was the radiant and indomitable spirit of a strong woman who refused to be old.
Valelav Havel wrote:
Either we have hope within us or we don't
It is a dimension of the soul,
It is not the conviction that something will turn
out well, but the certainty that something
makes sense, regardless of how it turns out.
Life is never perfect, and Wilma never expected it to be. She just made sense of what she had, thanked the Lord for providing it and kept on living.
Times spent at Grandma's house were marked by love, laughter, and contentment. Grandma & Grandpa's home was the center of holiday celebrations that brought her children and grandchildren together throughout the years. Thanksgiving, football games on the driveway, large meals, and the anticipation for the famous order to "Keep your Fork"! As an Adult, I now understand the dish washing diversion ploy involved in this command, but as kids, we didn't care. And why should we when we knew the truth, which the best part of the feast was yet to come...desert!
Years ago Ann Landers published a story by Roger Thomas entitled "Keep Your Fork". It is a "Chicken Soup for the Soul" kind of story that goes something like this.
A woman was diagnosed with a terminal illness and given three months to live. She asked her Pastor to come to her home to discuss her final wishes. She told him which songs she wanted sung at her funeral, and what scriptures she wanted read, and which outfit she wanted to be buried in. Then she said, "One more thing, I want to be buried with a fork in my hand."
The pastor was surprised. The woman explained, "in all my years attending; church socials and potluck dinners, I always remember that when the dishes of the main course were being cleared , someone would inevitably say to everyone, "Keep your fork". It was my favorite time of the dinner because I knew something better was coming, like velvet chocolate cake or deep-dish apple pie "something wonderful." So I want people to see me there in that casket with a fork in my hand and wonder, "What's with the fork?" Then I wand you to tell them, "Keep your fork for the best is yet to come."
The pastor's eyes welled up with tears of joy as he bid the woman goodbye. He realized she had a better grasp of heaven than he did, and knew something better was coming.
At the funeral, when people asked him why she was holding a fork, the pastor told them of the conversation he had with the woman before she died. He said he could not stop thinking the fork, and knew they probably would not be able to stop thinking about it either. He was right.
"Keep your fork. The best is yet to come."
Grandma Wilma was a humbled woman of quiet influence. I can not recall a time in my life when she impressed her opinion upon me; however, her presence and character have impacted the lives so many or us here today. And yet for all of the things Wilma did for our lives, for our family, this church, and our community, I will remember her most for the things that she didn't do.
She didn't complain, ever, about hardships, or the actions of others.
She didn't speak badly of others.
She didn't miss church or the opportunity to serve.
She didn't look for short cuts-things needed to be done right.
She didn't let others suffer or do without. Hitchhikers got rides, the hungry were fed, the lonely were visited, and the shut in's were were driven to the doctor, and most importantly, she didn't the opportunity to tell you that she loved you.
While we will sorely and forever miss the source of joy that you brought to all of our lives as a friend, sister, mother, grandmother, and an inspiration, we are comforted by knowing that you bought to all of our lives as a friend, sister, mother, grandmother, and an inspiration, we at comforted by knowing that you are home in a place where you can speak the words that have been trapped inside your mind for too long. For 89 years, you have kept your fork close by, and now you truly can enjoy the "Best" that has come.
Funeral services were Saturday, September 26 at 10:30 AM at the First Baptist Church, Boise City, Oklahoma with Trever Bulls, officiating.
Wilma Jane Clifton, the daughter of the late William J. Mayfield and Bessie Odell (Cook) Mayfield, was born January 7, 1926, in Paden, Oklahoma. She entered into eternal rest on September 20, 2015, in Amarillo, Texas, at the age of 89.
Wilma was preceded in death by her husband, Roy Clifton in January 2015, her parents, two brothers, Vernon Edmund and Derl Mayfield, and her son-in-law Norbert Cannon.
Survivors include her four children: Cindy Cannon of Amarillo, Texas, David Clifton and wife Anne of Boise City, Oklahoma, Tim Clifton and wife Lynda of Fritch, Texas, and Bill Clifton and wife Lori of Las Vegas, New Mexico; two sisters, Gerri Bocock of Colorado City, Texas and Mary Ann Winningham of Missoula, Montana; six grandchildren, twenty-one great grandchildren, and an endless list of other relatives and friends.
Born the second of five children, Wilma spent her adolescent years living in Prague, Oklahoma. As a youth, she worked along side her family milking cows and taking care of their small farm. Wilma would occasionally speak of her days spent in the cotton fields filling baskets by hand, and having to wear long sleeves and pants to keep the chiggers out. The Mayfield's would travel to Oklahoma City during cotton season to earn additional money. Local farmers knew them fro their picking ability, and the family easily found work. While the cotton harvest was hard, manual labor, it ensured that they would have a good Christmas and new shoes for Easter, which was more than most families had at that time. When Wima was six years old, she was finishing household choirs and went to start a fire in the stove. Her brother asked to blow out the match and it landed in her shirt catching her clothing on fire. Wilma was severely burned and permanently scarred by the accident, yet she always reflected positively on life, a trait that revealed the fortitude of her character.
When she was 18, Wilma moved to Boise City, Oklahoma to find work and live with her Aunt Ollie. She found work as a waitress and later a telephone operator, soon meeting Roy Clifton who had returned from WWII. The two would eventually wed in Clayton, New Mexico and begin a 65 year marriage that would fill their lives with a daughter and three sons. Together, Wilma and Roy worked hard and loved life. The were active members of the First Baptist Church of Boise City, traveled the summers in their 5th wheel camper, preformed a part of a square dance group,and provided a home for foster children. Wilma lived most of her life four miles south of Boise City on the Clifton family farm. It was here that she spent her days maintaining near self-sufficiency for her family through gardening, canning, grinding flour and maintaining a chicken coup. Last summer, David and Anne found and asparagus patch from Wilma,s old garden still growing strong. Like her, it too was resilient. Wilma also worked for years as a cook and a custodian for the Boise City Schools, a job that provided unharnessed summertime entertainment for her grand kids. Our grandma was an incredible woman. Unlike so many "Grandma's", she was never "Old", in my young eyes. Maybe this was a product of childhood naivety or maybe it was a loving blindness, but I believe it was a loving blindness, but I believe it was the radiant and indomitable spirit of a strong woman who refused to be old.
Valelav Havel wrote:
Either we have hope within us or we don't
It is a dimension of the soul,
It is not the conviction that something will turn
out well, but the certainty that something
makes sense, regardless of how it turns out.
Life is never perfect, and Wilma never expected it to be. She just made sense of what she had, thanked the Lord for providing it and kept on living.
Times spent at Grandma's house were marked by love, laughter, and contentment. Grandma & Grandpa's home was the center of holiday celebrations that brought her children and grandchildren together throughout the years. Thanksgiving, football games on the driveway, large meals, and the anticipation for the famous order to "Keep your Fork"! As an Adult, I now understand the dish washing diversion ploy involved in this command, but as kids, we didn't care. And why should we when we knew the truth, which the best part of the feast was yet to come...desert!
Years ago Ann Landers published a story by Roger Thomas entitled "Keep Your Fork". It is a "Chicken Soup for the Soul" kind of story that goes something like this.
A woman was diagnosed with a terminal illness and given three months to live. She asked her Pastor to come to her home to discuss her final wishes. She told him which songs she wanted sung at her funeral, and what scriptures she wanted read, and which outfit she wanted to be buried in. Then she said, "One more thing, I want to be buried with a fork in my hand."
The pastor was surprised. The woman explained, "in all my years attending; church socials and potluck dinners, I always remember that when the dishes of the main course were being cleared , someone would inevitably say to everyone, "Keep your fork". It was my favorite time of the dinner because I knew something better was coming, like velvet chocolate cake or deep-dish apple pie "something wonderful." So I want people to see me there in that casket with a fork in my hand and wonder, "What's with the fork?" Then I wand you to tell them, "Keep your fork for the best is yet to come."
The pastor's eyes welled up with tears of joy as he bid the woman goodbye. He realized she had a better grasp of heaven than he did, and knew something better was coming.
At the funeral, when people asked him why she was holding a fork, the pastor told them of the conversation he had with the woman before she died. He said he could not stop thinking the fork, and knew they probably would not be able to stop thinking about it either. He was right.
"Keep your fork. The best is yet to come."
Grandma Wilma was a humbled woman of quiet influence. I can not recall a time in my life when she impressed her opinion upon me; however, her presence and character have impacted the lives so many or us here today. And yet for all of the things Wilma did for our lives, for our family, this church, and our community, I will remember her most for the things that she didn't do.
She didn't complain, ever, about hardships, or the actions of others.
She didn't speak badly of others.
She didn't miss church or the opportunity to serve.
She didn't look for short cuts-things needed to be done right.
She didn't let others suffer or do without. Hitchhikers got rides, the hungry were fed, the lonely were visited, and the shut in's were were driven to the doctor, and most importantly, she didn't the opportunity to tell you that she loved you.
While we will sorely and forever miss the source of joy that you brought to all of our lives as a friend, sister, mother, grandmother, and an inspiration, we are comforted by knowing that you bought to all of our lives as a friend, sister, mother, grandmother, and an inspiration, we at comforted by knowing that you are home in a place where you can speak the words that have been trapped inside your mind for too long. For 89 years, you have kept your fork close by, and now you truly can enjoy the "Best" that has come.
Funeral services were Saturday, September 26 at 10:30 AM at the First Baptist Church, Boise City, Oklahoma with Trever Bulls, officiating.
WILMA JANE CLIFTON
Wilma Jane Clifton, the daughter of the late William J. Mayfield and Bessie Odell (Cook) Mayfield, was born January 7, 1926, in Paden, Oklahoma. She entered into eternal rest on September 20, 2015, in Amarillo, Texas, at the age of 89.
Wilma was preceded in death by her husband, Roy Clifton in January 2015, her parents, two brothers, Vernon Edmund and Derl Mayfield, and her son-in-law Norbert Cannon.
Survivors include her four children: Cindy Cannon of Amarillo, Texas, David Clifton and wife Anne of Boise City, Oklahoma, Tim Clifton and wife Lynda of Fritch, Texas, and Bill Clifton and wife Lori of Las Vegas, New Mexico; two sisters, Gerri Bocock of Colorado City, Texas and Mary Ann Winningham of Missoula, Montana; six grandchildren, twenty-one great grandchildren, and an endless list of other relatives and friends.
Born the second of five children, Wilma spent her adolescent years living in Prague, Oklahoma. As a youth, she worked along side her family milking cows and taking care of their small farm. Wilma would occasionally speak of her days spent in the cotton fields filling baskets by hand, and having to wear long sleeves and pants to keep the chiggers out. The Mayfield's would travel to Oklahoma City during cotton season to earn additional money. Local farmers knew them fro their picking ability, and the family easily found work. While the cotton harvest was hard, manual labor, it ensured that they would have a good Christmas and new shoes for Easter, which was more than most families had at that time. When Wima was six years old, she was finishing household choirs and went to start a fire in the stove. Her brother asked to blow out the match and it landed in her shirt catching her clothing on fire. Wilma was severely burned and permanently scarred by the accident, yet she always reflected positively on life, a trait that revealed the fortitude of her character.
When she was 18, Wilma moved to Boise City, Oklahoma to find work and live with her Aunt Ollie. She found work as a waitress and later a telephone operator, soon meeting Roy Clifton who had returned from WWII. The two would eventually wed in Clayton, New Mexico and begin a 65 year marriage that would fill their lives with a daughter and three sons. Together, Wilma and Roy worked hard and loved life. The were active members of the First Baptist Church of Boise City, traveled the summers in their 5th wheel camper, preformed a part of a square dance group,and provided a home for foster children. Wilma lived most of her life four miles south of Boise City on the Clifton family farm. It was here that she spent her days maintaining near self-sufficiency for her family through gardening, canning, grinding flour and maintaining a chicken coup. Last summer, David and Anne found and asparagus patch from Wilma,s old garden still growing strong. Like her, it too was resilient. Wilma also worked for years as a cook and a custodian for the Boise City Schools, a job that provided unharnessed summertime entertainment for her grand kids. Our grandma was an incredible woman. Unlike so many "Grandma's", she was never "Old", in my young eyes. Maybe this was a product of childhood naivety or maybe it was a loving blindness, but I believe it was a loving blindness, but I believe it was the radiant and indomitable spirit of a strong woman who refused to be old.
Valelav Havel wrote:
Either we have hope within us or we don't
It is a dimension of the soul,
It is not the conviction that something will turn
out well, but the certainty that something
makes sense, regardless of how it turns out.
Life is never perfect, and Wilma never expected it to be. She just made sense of what she had, thanked the Lord for providing it and kept on living.
Times spent at Grandma's house were marked by love, laughter, and contentment. Grandma & Grandpa's home was the center of holiday celebrations that brought her children and grandchildren together throughout the years. Thanksgiving, football games on the driveway, large meals, and the anticipation for the famous order to "Keep your Fork"! As an Adult, I now understand the dish washing diversion ploy involved in this command, but as kids, we didn't care. And why should we when we knew the truth, which the best part of the feast was yet to come...desert!
Years ago Ann Landers published a story by Roger Thomas entitled "Keep Your Fork". It is a "Chicken Soup for the Soul" kind of story that goes something like this.
A woman was diagnosed with a terminal illness and given three months to live. She asked her Pastor to come to her home to discuss her final wishes. She told him which songs she wanted sung at her funeral, and what scriptures she wanted read, and which outfit she wanted to be buried in. Then she said, "One more thing, I want to be buried with a fork in my hand."
The pastor was surprised. The woman explained, "in all my years attending; church socials and potluck dinners, I always remember that when the dishes of the main course were being cleared , someone would inevitably say to everyone, "Keep your fork". It was my favorite time of the dinner because I knew something better was coming, like velvet chocolate cake or deep-dish apple pie "something wonderful." So I want people to see me there in that casket with a fork in my hand and wonder, "What's with the fork?" Then I wand you to tell them, "Keep your fork for the best is yet to come."
The pastor's eyes welled up with tears of joy as he bid the woman goodbye. He realized she had a better grasp of heaven than he did, and knew something better was coming.
At the funeral, when people asked him why she was holding a fork, the pastor told them of the conversation he had with the woman before she died. He said he could not stop thinking the fork, and knew they probably would not be able to stop thinking about it either. He was right.
"Keep your fork. The best is yet to come."
Grandma Wilma was a humbled woman of quiet influence. I can not recall a time in my life when she impressed her opinion upon me; however, her presence and character have impacted the lives so many or us here today. And yet for all of the things Wilma did for our lives, for our family, this church, and our community, I will remember her most for the things that she didn't do.
She didn't complain, ever, about hardships, or the actions of others.
She didn't speak badly of others.
She didn't miss church or the opportunity to serve.
She didn't look for short cuts-things needed to be done right.
She didn't let others suffer or do without. Hitchhikers got rides, the hungry were fed, the lonely were visited, and the shut in's were were driven to the doctor, and most importantly, she didn't the opportunity to tell you that she loved you.
While we will sorely and forever miss the source of joy that you brought to all of our lives as a friend, sister, mother, grandmother, and an inspiration, we are comforted by knowing that you bought to all of our lives as a friend, sister, mother, grandmother, and an inspiration, we at comforted by knowing that you are home in a place where you can speak the words that have been trapped inside your mind for too long. For 89 years, you have kept your fork close by, and now you truly can enjoy the "Best" that has come.
Funeral services were Saturday, September 26 at 10:30 AM at the First Baptist Church, Boise City, Oklahoma with Trever Bulls, officiating.
Wilma Jane Clifton, the daughter of the late William J. Mayfield and Bessie Odell (Cook) Mayfield, was born January 7, 1926, in Paden, Oklahoma. She entered into eternal rest on September 20, 2015, in Amarillo, Texas, at the age of 89.
Wilma was preceded in death by her husband, Roy Clifton in January 2015, her parents, two brothers, Vernon Edmund and Derl Mayfield, and her son-in-law Norbert Cannon.
Survivors include her four children: Cindy Cannon of Amarillo, Texas, David Clifton and wife Anne of Boise City, Oklahoma, Tim Clifton and wife Lynda of Fritch, Texas, and Bill Clifton and wife Lori of Las Vegas, New Mexico; two sisters, Gerri Bocock of Colorado City, Texas and Mary Ann Winningham of Missoula, Montana; six grandchildren, twenty-one great grandchildren, and an endless list of other relatives and friends.
Born the second of five children, Wilma spent her adolescent years living in Prague, Oklahoma. As a youth, she worked along side her family milking cows and taking care of their small farm. Wilma would occasionally speak of her days spent in the cotton fields filling baskets by hand, and having to wear long sleeves and pants to keep the chiggers out. The Mayfield's would travel to Oklahoma City during cotton season to earn additional money. Local farmers knew them fro their picking ability, and the family easily found work. While the cotton harvest was hard, manual labor, it ensured that they would have a good Christmas and new shoes for Easter, which was more than most families had at that time. When Wima was six years old, she was finishing household choirs and went to start a fire in the stove. Her brother asked to blow out the match and it landed in her shirt catching her clothing on fire. Wilma was severely burned and permanently scarred by the accident, yet she always reflected positively on life, a trait that revealed the fortitude of her character.
When she was 18, Wilma moved to Boise City, Oklahoma to find work and live with her Aunt Ollie. She found work as a waitress and later a telephone operator, soon meeting Roy Clifton who had returned from WWII. The two would eventually wed in Clayton, New Mexico and begin a 65 year marriage that would fill their lives with a daughter and three sons. Together, Wilma and Roy worked hard and loved life. The were active members of the First Baptist Church of Boise City, traveled the summers in their 5th wheel camper, preformed a part of a square dance group,and provided a home for foster children. Wilma lived most of her life four miles south of Boise City on the Clifton family farm. It was here that she spent her days maintaining near self-sufficiency for her family through gardening, canning, grinding flour and maintaining a chicken coup. Last summer, David and Anne found and asparagus patch from Wilma,s old garden still growing strong. Like her, it too was resilient. Wilma also worked for years as a cook and a custodian for the Boise City Schools, a job that provided unharnessed summertime entertainment for her grand kids. Our grandma was an incredible woman. Unlike so many "Grandma's", she was never "Old", in my young eyes. Maybe this was a product of childhood naivety or maybe it was a loving blindness, but I believe it was a loving blindness, but I believe it was the radiant and indomitable spirit of a strong woman who refused to be old.
Valelav Havel wrote:
Either we have hope within us or we don't
It is a dimension of the soul,
It is not the conviction that something will turn
out well, but the certainty that something
makes sense, regardless of how it turns out.
Life is never perfect, and Wilma never expected it to be. She just made sense of what she had, thanked the Lord for providing it and kept on living.
Times spent at Grandma's house were marked by love, laughter, and contentment. Grandma & Grandpa's home was the center of holiday celebrations that brought her children and grandchildren together throughout the years. Thanksgiving, football games on the driveway, large meals, and the anticipation for the famous order to "Keep your Fork"! As an Adult, I now understand the dish washing diversion ploy involved in this command, but as kids, we didn't care. And why should we when we knew the truth, which the best part of the feast was yet to come...desert!
Years ago Ann Landers published a story by Roger Thomas entitled "Keep Your Fork". It is a "Chicken Soup for the Soul" kind of story that goes something like this.
A woman was diagnosed with a terminal illness and given three months to live. She asked her Pastor to come to her home to discuss her final wishes. She told him which songs she wanted sung at her funeral, and what scriptures she wanted read, and which outfit she wanted to be buried in. Then she said, "One more thing, I want to be buried with a fork in my hand."
The pastor was surprised. The woman explained, "in all my years attending; church socials and potluck dinners, I always remember that when the dishes of the main course were being cleared , someone would inevitably say to everyone, "Keep your fork". It was my favorite time of the dinner because I knew something better was coming, like velvet chocolate cake or deep-dish apple pie "something wonderful." So I want people to see me there in that casket with a fork in my hand and wonder, "What's with the fork?" Then I wand you to tell them, "Keep your fork for the best is yet to come."
The pastor's eyes welled up with tears of joy as he bid the woman goodbye. He realized she had a better grasp of heaven than he did, and knew something better was coming.
At the funeral, when people asked him why she was holding a fork, the pastor told them of the conversation he had with the woman before she died. He said he could not stop thinking the fork, and knew they probably would not be able to stop thinking about it either. He was right.
"Keep your fork. The best is yet to come."
Grandma Wilma was a humbled woman of quiet influence. I can not recall a time in my life when she impressed her opinion upon me; however, her presence and character have impacted the lives so many or us here today. And yet for all of the things Wilma did for our lives, for our family, this church, and our community, I will remember her most for the things that she didn't do.
She didn't complain, ever, about hardships, or the actions of others.
She didn't speak badly of others.
She didn't miss church or the opportunity to serve.
She didn't look for short cuts-things needed to be done right.
She didn't let others suffer or do without. Hitchhikers got rides, the hungry were fed, the lonely were visited, and the shut in's were were driven to the doctor, and most importantly, she didn't the opportunity to tell you that she loved you.
While we will sorely and forever miss the source of joy that you brought to all of our lives as a friend, sister, mother, grandmother, and an inspiration, we are comforted by knowing that you bought to all of our lives as a friend, sister, mother, grandmother, and an inspiration, we at comforted by knowing that you are home in a place where you can speak the words that have been trapped inside your mind for too long. For 89 years, you have kept your fork close by, and now you truly can enjoy the "Best" that has come.
Funeral services were Saturday, September 26 at 10:30 AM at the First Baptist Church, Boise City, Oklahoma with Trever Bulls, officiating.
Family Members
Spouse
Sponsored by Ancestry
Advertisement
Advertisement
