Sydney C. Dunson was born on April 1, 1944, in Fort Smith, Arkansas. Sydney, a beloved mother, sister, aunt, mother-in-law, grandma, great-grandma, and friend to all, passed peacefully from this world on August 10, 2024, at the age of 80. She is survived by her three children, Kriss McLain and husband Colin, Tobin Dunson and wife Kelli, and Aaron Dunson and wife Melonie. She also leaves behind her sister Janie Sturgeon, nineteen grandchildren and two great-grandchildren, along with many nieces, nephews, cousins, friends and so many more. Sydney was preceded in death by her mother, Sarah Jane Rogers; her husband, Chuck Dunson; and sister Sally Roden.

Sydney grew up as a middle child with her sisters Sally and Janie in Fort Smith, Arkansas. When she was young, she would pick up anything and put it in her pocket. One time, she picked up a dead frog and put it in her pocket. Her mother nearly fainted upon reaching into the pocket to empty it and found the frog! Years later, her mother would return the favor by mailing her a frog that had been run over.

In 1964, she married the love of her life Charles (Chuck) Dunson (twice!). They were so ready to be married, they secretly eloped a month before their "real" wedding. Sydney's mother was less than pleased when she eventually found out. Sydney and Chuck lived in Tulsa, where she worked in the medical profession before becoming a stay-at-home mom to their three kids – Kriss, Tobin, and Aaron. As her children got older, she pursued a computer programming degree and enjoyed gathering with friends and neighbors sharing laughter and love, stories of old, hopes and dreams with a never-ending glass of iced tea. They were married for 19 years prior to Chuck's passing in 1983, and Sydney never dated or remarried, often saying "when you have had the best, you aren't interested in the rest."

For all her denials of not being talented, she definitely was. Sydney was an avid cook and baker throughout her life and prepared much of the food from "scratch". Sydney's delicious desserts, like "wacky cake", lemon cake, and donuts, made any occasion special and were always highly sought after (even sometimes fought over) by family, friends and colleagues. She also loved to knit, crochet and sew. She would knit and crochet hats to donate to chemo patients as well as to the homeless community at John 3:16 Mission. She even made insulin pump covers for a friend who wanted some "fun" covers instead of the boring ones because they couldn't find any. She believed that we all needed to have some fun things in our life and her generosity was unmatched.

In addition to being a devoted mother, Sydney worked for the United States Postal Service for 38 years until her retirement. During her career she worked in many different capacities but ultimately ended up in the Bulk Mail unit. During her tenure there, colleagues knew she was the go-to person and resident on-site therapist – she just seemed to know all the answers. And if she didn't know, she would make it her mission to find out and get the answer for you.

It was well known within family and friends that Sydney was a conversationalist. A "quick chat" did not exist in her vocabulary. Every conversation was at least 30 minutes if not more, but really, no one would have wanted it any other way. No topic was off limits with her vast knowledge of gardening, medicine, home remedies, cooking, and so many other things, which allowed her to talk with people for hours – family members can attest to phone calls lasting 4-5 hours. She was always available to lend a friendly ear and provided a safe space to share your concerns, fears or even vent. People gravitated to her so they could tell her their stories and receive her advice. And if she had not heard from you in a while, she would call you. Sydney was the queen of the long goodbye. She would remember something as you were leaving and then it would evolve into another 15 to 20-minute discussion leading to other things. Eventually you both had to say, "it's time to go", chuckling at the absurdity of the situation and knowing that you would pick right back up again the next time you talked.

Sydney's warmth and loving spirit will forever be embedded in her most coveted gift, the legendary pajama pants she made from "scratch" each year for Christmas. These pajama pants started out as an alternate gift for her family and close friends, and eventually evolved into a Christmas tradition spanning over 20 years. In that time, she selflessly made over 1,000 pairs of custom pajama pants for those lucky enough to be on the list of recipients. It was common to hear of someone begging or pleading their case to be placed on the "list" for next year. The Annual Pants Pick-O-Rama was born and became a Thanksgiving tradition. Sydney would collect over a hundred different fabric options for the selection process, which was rarely missed so each person could pick the "good" fabric for the next year. She honed her process and knew precisely when she needed to prep fabric for cutting, sewing and finishing. Some years she would say "she just needed to sew 6 hours each day" to have all of them completed by Christmas. She loved watching everyone open their box of pants because it was always a surprise since half the time family and friends had forgotten what they picked from the previous year. For her 80th birthday, Sydney was surprised with a party where family and friends wore their favorite pair of original Sydney pajama pants to celebrate her.

Sydney will be fondly remembered for how she always made everyone feel special. She had the uncanny ability to never forget a birthday, graduation, or anniversary. For every "congratulations moment" big or small, she would send a card with a treat to let you know that she was proud and thinking of you. She always had jelly beans in the "gold apple" and Dove chocolate hidden in the kitchen, and everyone that entered her house knew where to find a sweet treat. Sydney cherished the close relationships with all her family – her sisters, children, nieces, nephews, grandkids, great grandkids and neighbors. Sydney's house was the gathering spot for all, and everyone was always welcome and accepted as they were. She was a hugger who always gave the best hugs. Even if you were not the hugging type of person, she would give you one anyway and you could not wait for one the next time you saw her.

As we say goodbye to Sydney, we celebrate a life lived with immense love and devotion. Her memory will continue to inspire and guide us, and her spirit will remain a comforting presence in the hearts of all of those she loved and of those who loved her. Remember to look for her in small moments. She will be all around us, as she lives on through us. Cherish the life and love she shared and honor her until we meet again.