Cheryl May Tullos

Cheryl Dawkins Tullos February 4, 1946 – February 20, 2026 Some people leave a room, and you feel the air shift. Not because they were loud. Not because they demanded attention. But because they carried something steady with them. A quiet light. Cheryl Dawkins Tullos carried that light her whole life. She was born on February 4, 1946, in Louin, Mississippi, in the very house where her parents, Garland Dawkins and Sallie May Huddleston Dawkins, raised their children. She was the baby of six, the last set of footsteps down familiar wooden floors, the final child tucked into a home already full of stories. Louin shaped her. The red dirt roads. The front porches. The hymns rising on Sunday mornings from the Methodist church of her childhood. She grew up in a faith that was steady and plainspoken. Later, she would sit in Baptist pews, but she always spoke of the Lord like someone who knew Him personally. She called Him the “Old Master Upstairs,” and she said it with reverence and affection. She was preceded in death by her parents; her brothers, Dr. Billy Dawkins and George Dawkins; and her sisters, Maureen Cupit and Marilyn Wallace. One by one, that generation slipped ahead of her. And she carried their memory quietly. Amidst the chapters of her life, a special segment of her life was shared with Robert Tullos. Their story, woven with love and mutual growth, left an indelible mark on her journey. Though they later parted ways, the time they spent together remained a cherished memory, a testament to life's complex tapestry of relationships. She is survived by her daughter, Jill Tullos McDaniel; her son-in-law, Chris McDaniel; and her grandsons, Cambridge McDaniel, 19, and Chamberlain McDaniel, 14, the great loves of her life. She is also survived by her sister, Maggie Ruth Vickery; her devoted best friend, Vernon McCree; cherished nieces and nephews; lifelong friends who loved her well and took her on small, joyful journeys; her faithful caregiver of seven years, Lacey Davenport; and even her grand fur-babies, Carlee McDaniel and Dak McDaniel. Cheryl was a teacher for 43 years. Most of those years were spent at Shady Grove Elementary, teaching first grade. If you walked into her classroom, you would not have seen fanfare. You would have seen careful handwriting, bright construction paper, and small children learning to sound out words that would one day carry them into the world. She believed reading opened doors no one could close. She gave that gift to hundreds of children. After retiring from the public school system, she continued teaching at Heidelberg Academy. Teaching was never simply a job to her. It was part of her calling. She was once chosen Teacher of the Year. She tried to convince them to give it to someone else. The spotlight unsettled her. She preferred the back row. Her idea of embarrassment was the staff at her favorite Mexican restaurant singing “Happy Birthday” while she tried to disappear into her seat. Everyone else thought she was beautiful. She never quite believed it. She was artistic and creative. Full of motion. Always in a hurry, as if she had more kindness to deliver than there were hours in the day. She had a way of saying something unintentionally funny that would leave a room laughing, and she would stand there, puzzled, wondering what she had said. That only made it sweeter. What defined her most was her selflessness. She did not keep score. She did not seek recognition. She did not complain. Not once. Not when Parkinson’s began to steal her strength. Not when it slowed her body. Not when it slowly clouded her memory. As the disease progressed and took pieces of her independence, she never asked for sympathy. Instead, she asked how she could help someone else. She never ended a phone call or a visit without asking Jill, “What can I do to help you?” It was not a phrase. It was who she was. She loved her daughter Jill with a devotion that only a mama understands. She was not merely a mother. She was a mama. And in the South, that word carries weight. A mama is where you land when the world feels heavy. A mama steadies your breathing without saying a word. A mama believes in you without condition. Then came her boys. When hospital staff once asked her if she had children, she answered without hesitation, “Yes, I have two boys.” She meant her grandsons. Cambridge and Chamberlain were the center of her orbit. She became a baseball grandmother with the same devotion she gave her classroom. She drove them. She waited in parking lots. She cheered in bleachers. She prayed quietly. She poured herself into helping shape them into good and honorable young men. The pride in her voice when she spoke their names could fill a room. When life grew uncertain, she would say, “There will be a brighter day.” She did not say it lightly. She believed it. And now we trust that she is resting in the arms of the very Savior she spoke of so often. She told us there would be a brighter day. For her, that day has come. * * * Funeral Arrangements for Cheryl Dawkins Tullos: We will celebrate Cheryl’s life on Tuesday, February 24, at Memory Chapel in Laurel, Mississippi. Visitation for the family will begin at 12:30 p.m. Visitation for friends will begin at 1:00 p.m. The funeral service will follow at 2:00 p.m. To view of sign the online guestbook, please visit www.memorychapellaurel.com.

Cheryl May Tullos

February 4, 1946 - February 20, 2026