Shirley Ann Steele Andrews

Mrs. Shirley Ann Steele Andrews, age 89, of Mt. Airy, passed away at home surrounded by the family. She was a cherished mother, grandmother, and friend, and she loved so deeply. Her life was marked by a giving heart, a quiet strength, and a devotion to others that never once wavered. She was the kind of woman who would go without so someone else could have what they needed—giving, sacrificing, and loving without complaint and without expecting anything in return. That was simply who she was.

She is survived by her children, Cathy Jackson (Rick) of Pheonix Az, Debi Andrews of the home, Diane Woodward (Bob) of Sparta, Frankie Andrews of Pilot Mountain, Patty Andrews (Kenneth) of Trap Hill, Jamie Andrews (Fuzzy) of Mt. Airy; grandchildren, Tammy Fraser, Robert Jackson, Ricky Jackson, Kristi Jackson, Jeremiah Joines, Kris Inman, Brittany Sheets, Tonya Moxley, Colton Andrews, Nathan Royal, Michael Royal, Brandon Tilley, Jerry Smith, Jessica Smith, Tye Smith, Abby Smith; twenty nine great-grandchildren; fifteen great-great grandchildren with two more on the way; sisters, Billie Cage, Drema Kilby, and Carol Robertson; nieces, Nancy Pilkenton and Michelle Steele. Mrs. Andrews was preceded in death by an infant daughter and angel, Sherry Darlene Andrews; grandchildren, Matthew Absher and Brandon Moxley; brother, Bob Steele; her parents, Earl and Katherine Montgomery Steele; the father of her children, Frank Lee Andrews Sr; nephews, Ricky and Danny Cage; loving pet, Maddie.

Shirley lived her life rooted in compassion, loyalty, and an unwavering love for her family. She raised her children with the same steady dedication she carried through every season of her life. Through every hardship and every joy, she was there—present, dependable, and full of love.

Cathy’s Memories

On one of the many trips back home to Baltimore, mom has always reflected on all the times the family had driven that long stretch of road without ever stopping.

When asked where she wanted to go, she mentioned Luray Caverns—a place she had always dreamed of seeing. Rick took the exit, and off they went. Cathy and mom toured the caverns in sandals and without jackets, nearly freezing, but none of that mattered. What mattered was the smile on mom’s face when they got back in the car. That simple, spontaneous moment captured her perfectly—finding joy in the little things and cherishing every mile shared with the people she loved.

My daughter Tammy shared two memories of her grandmother that she holds closest to her heart. She remembers “Mom‑Mom’s no‑nos”—all the little knickknacks you could look at but never touch—and, of course, her famous fudge. It was a part of Tammy’s life from the very beginning; she was only six months old when she first tasted it. Every time someone brought fudge home from a visit, she looked forward to it with the same excitement. Those simple joys became some of her sweetest memories.

Debbie’s Memories

Mamaw’s Candy Dish

My favorite memory of my mother is how she lit up every time my grandson Jace came over. He would go straight to her candy dish, grab her candy, and say, “Hahaha, Mamaw, look—I took your candy!” Then he’d shake his little butt at her, proud of himself, and she would just burst into the biggest smile.

She’d tease him right back, and the two of them would laugh together like they had their own secret world. Her whole face would glow, smiling from ear to ear.

That’s the memory I hold closest—seeing her truly happy, truly smiling, because of a little boy and a candy dish.

Diane's memories.

My fondest memory was on my older sister’s birthday. Mom could barely walk, but off we went to the festival. It literally took us all day to walk across town. It was hot, and she was so worn out, but she was determined to do this. After walking all day, we finally made it to the Mayberry Trading Post, where my sister works.

I guess we stopped twenty times to rest, but we made it to see Debbie for her birthday. I helped make her wish come true, and it ended up being the very last time she got out. I’m so thankful for that.

Frankie’s Memories

For her son Frankie, the memories are countless, but the one that rises above them all is her giving heart. She lived her life for others, pouring herself out so her family could stand strong.

She passed down her love of sports—especially the Baltimore Orioles and the Baltimore Colts. She sat beside him at countless Orioles games, and every Sunday at 2:00 she was right there cheering for the Colts. Her voice still echoes in the hearts of those who loved her:

“My man Stan!” she’d shout whenever Stan White made a play.

Trips back home to Maryland were never complete until she made biscuits and gravy for Nancy—one of the many small traditions that became part of the family’s story.

Time spent with Aunt Billie, Aunt Drema, Uncle Bob, and Aunt Carol always brought laughter, stories, and memories from years gone by. And her shopping trips with Aunt Pam—especially their adventures through craft stores—were an event all their own. If spending money on crafts were a sport, those two would be undefeated. Watching her and Michelle go back and forth was almost a comedy show in itself.

Speaking of trips to Maryland Let’s not forget the memory of all memories—with a trip back to Baltimore. We were there for a few days when Aunt Billie asked if mom if she wanted the desk that had belonged to Ricky. She said no, so we came home and thought nothing more of it.

Then the very next day after getting home, mom called and asked if Colton and I would drive right back up and get that desk after all.

Colton loved his grandma, so he just smiled and went along for the ride. We brought that desk home, drove straight up and straight back ,And now I have it and it carries a story we’ll never forget. It’s more than a piece of furniture—it’s a memory we’ll always treasure.

I would be remiss if I didn’t mention her friendship with the Burchetts—and ours with them as well. I can promise you this much: Mom has already found Hilda, and the two of them are no doubt giving Dad and Bruce a hard time together.

It would be impossible to talk about Mom without mentioning her fudge. Every Christmas, without fail, she made it—and it was understood that I’d be taking some to my friend Ray Coe and his father, Don.

Mom taught me the gift of making fudge, not just the recipe but the joy of giving it away. It’s a tradition I’ll carry on for as long as I’m here.

But above all the laughter, the sports, the long drives, and the shared memories, one truth stands above the rest:

She was the best mother and grandmother her family could have ever asked for.

Through every chapter of life, she was there. Always.

When she was little, she carried the nickname “Pepper,” given to her by her grandfather a name with a story all its own. Anyone who knew her in those early years understood exactly why it suited her—full of spirit, full of life, and unforgettable from the start. ( I tried to make that sound nice and sweet but in reality mom was a little hot headed from time to time ) Some continued to call her Shirley some called her Pepper throughout the years, but for the six of us, the name that meant the most—the one that defined our world—was simply Mom.

In her final days, Mom believed she had a little girl to care for—her sweet Miss Lilly. Today, we take comfort in knowing she’s finally free, finally whole, and already watching over Miss Lilly with the same love she gave all of us.

We love you, Mom. Always.

“ You were an angel in the shape of my mom

Spread your wings as you go

And when God takes you back

He'll say, "Hallelujah, you're home"

Patty's memories

My favorite memory goes back to when we lived on Lori Lane. Every Christmas, that house held a kind of magic, and there’s one Christmas I’ll never forget. Mom was in the kitchen all day—baking pies, making candy, and stirring up her famous fudge. She taught her only son how to make that fudge, and to this day I can still hear her saying, “Just like Momma’s.”

As Christmas Eve settled in, she was still cooking, filling the whole house with the smell of good food and sweet treats. She was such a good mother—my best friend—and she helped me so much with my two boys.

Michael used to sleep with her, and one night he woke her up saying, “Momaw, Momaw, wake up! Jesus is gonna be mad because we didn’t pray.” And she always helped Nathan with his schoolwork, patient and steady as ever.

She was the best momma and the best grandmother. Love you, Momma—always and forever. Butterfly hugs and kisses.

Jamie’s memories

She remembers Mom’s heart most of all. Mom never had much, yet she opened her home to anyone who needed a place—sometimes even to strangers—and especially during Thanksgiving and Christmas.

Their trips back home to Maryland were always an adventure, filled with endless shopping stops and laughter. And no trip was complete unless they pulled into Dinosaur Land.

Mom was never in a hurry. She moved through life at her own gentle pace, always willing to stop and truly see the world—always stopping to smell the roses.

I would be remiss not to mention one of the sweetest memories of all. In Mom’s final six months, she believed she had a little girl named Miss Lilly. And just as she used to braid my hair when I was a child, I would sit beside her and braid the hair of the baby doll she called Miss Lilly. It was our quiet way of holding onto each other, mother and daughter, one more time.

Special thanks to the Mountain Valley – Joan & Howard Woltz Hospice Home, and to Maria Bedsaul , Beth Freeman and Joanna Parker for their extraordinary care and compassion.

To Preacher Doug and Mary Jane Combs, along with Pastor Jonathan Casstevens from Hospice and Darren and Kristie Bryd thank you for your spiritual support and comforting presence.

And a heartfelt thank‑you to Jennifer Marshall for the many rides to Winston‑Salem for doctor visits. Your kindness will never be forgotten.

A memorial service will be held on Saturday, May 2, 2026 at 2:00 PM at Moody Funeral Home Chapel in Mt. Airy with service conducted by Rev. D.C. Collins.