Shirley Gillam

1955 - 2025

Shirley Ann Gillam of Bettendorf, Iowa, born October 18th, 1955, in Fort Riley, Kansas, passed away surrounded by her family's love at the University of Iowa on July 23rd, 2025. Please join us for a Celebration of Life on Saturday, September 6th, from 4:00 to 7:00 p.m. at Tanglewood Hills Pavilion in Bettendorf, Iowa.

A graduate of Pleasant Valley High School and an athlete at heart, Shirley found joy in tennis, volleyball, and softball. It was on the softball field, when the scheduled umpire did not show, that she was asked to step in. A close call at third base declaring Dan French out, sparked a love story that grew into a partnership spanning more than 40 years. Through life's challenges, Shirley and Dan stood side by side, supporting and encouraging one another with unwavering commitment, a true lifelong team.

Shirley's greatest joy was being a mother, and her daughters, Angela (Josh) Lofgren and Kayla French, were her deepest pride. Her love extended to her grandchildren: Lindsay (Jake) Doyle, Joey Honeywell, Katy Honeywell, Delaney Lofgren, and JJ Lofgren, who filled her life with endless light. She is also survived by her mother, Shirley Ann Cole, and her sister, Brenda (Monte) Beard. She was preceded in death by her sister, Linda Wixom.

Beyond her family, she poured her creativity and dedication into her work. She spent many years as a proud production manager, leading her team with both skill and heart. Later, she became her partner's trusted right hand in trim carpentry, her hands and vision leaving their mark on countless meaningful projects.

Her presence brought color and vibrancy wherever she went, along with compassion, open-mindedness, and a resilient, adventurous heart. She gave without the need for acknowledgement. Everything she tended flourished under her care. Gentle yet strong, she was a safe place to land for so many. Endlessly creative, both artistic and practical, she had a quiet knack for figuring things out. Her hands could build, restore, and create beauty, often all at once.

Her garden was more than a pastime, it was a reflection of her soul. With patience, she nurtured beauty, helping life take root and thrive. This summer, two moonflowers pushed up through a crack in the driveway. She placed a tall post beside them, a clear marker: do not run them over. She didn't just notice those fragile blooms, she believed in them. Like those moonflowers, she helped others grow quietly and steadily, blossoming herself even in the harshest places.

The butterflies, bumblebees, and hummingbirds will miss her, but not nearly as much as we will.