Sheila Fay Ball, 60, of Elkhart, passed away peacefully at Elkhart General Hospital with her family at her side on Thursday, November 13, 2025, at 5:40 p.m., following an extended illness. Born on July 17, 1965, in Elkhart to the late Riley and Shirley Ann (Hoopingarner) McClure, Sheila came into the world with a spark that, over the years, only grew brighter, funnier, and more loving. She brought with her a bit of feisty McClure grit, a generous helping of Hoopingarner tenderness, and a sense of humor that could turn a stubborn day into something worth laughing about.

She is preceded in death by her parents; her brothers, Jed M. McClure and Riley "Junior" (Ya ole rat) McClure, Jr.; and her dear friend "Big" Betty Pressler—no doubt all of them waiting at Heaven's gate with a pot of coffee, ready to swap stories and tease each other the way only lifelong companions can.

Surviving Sheila are her sons, Johnny F. "Johnny Bunny" Peepers, Jr. and Steven A. Peepers, both of Elkhart; her daughter and best girl, Tricia M. Peepers of Elkhart; and her beloved grandchildren—Nakiah Cassidy, Michelle and Brandon Chacon, Christopher Peepers, Jezebell Marquez, and Haley Alverado—each of whom she adored with her whole heart.

Also surviving are her Aunt Sally Hoopingarner; her cherished extended family including Aunt Betty Pressler and cousins Antyune Pressler, Tymara Pratcher, Benjamin Roby, Ray McClure, Suzie McClure, Bobbie Pressler, Bettie Pressler, and Stacy Johnson; her very good friend Charlie Van Lieu of Elkhart; and her caregiver of seven years, Tonya Birky, who became not just a helper but an honorary niece, therapist, referee, and occasional partner-in-crime. And of course, her dogs Lil' Mama and Stormy remain behind—still grieving and refusing interviews at this time.

In accordance with her wishes, cremation has taken place under the direction of Billings Funeral Home and Cremation Services. No formal services are planned, though her family encourages everyone to honor Sheila by sharing a story, a laugh, or a movie night in her memory.

Sheila was a hard worker with the kind of work ethic that didn't require recognition—it was just who she was. She spent years serving the community at Bob Evans, where she perfected the art of balancing hot plates, juggling customer requests, and sneaking smiles to regulars who came in simply because "Sheila's on today." Later, she worked as a cashier at Meijer until her health required retirement—an adjustment she took with more grace than most people would, though she did occasionally comment that the self-checkout machines would never do it as well as she did.

Beyond her paid work, Sheila also volunteered nearly a decade with St. Joseph County's PACE program. Caring for others was never a duty for her—it was simply her nature. She was the one person that people called when they needed help, a listening ear, or someone willing to roll up her sleeves and pitch in. When the time came for her to need help, she accepted Tonya's care with that familiar mix of stubborn pride and affectionate gratitude.

Her greatest joy, however, was her family. Sheila loved without reservation, without hesitation, and without ever letting anyone forget just how important they were to her. She especially treasured her relationship with Tricia—her confidant, her sidekick, her heart. And her grandchildren… she fawned over them all, calling them regularly, bragging about them shamelessly, and keeping tabs on their lives as if each update were the next chapter in her favorite book.

Some of Sheila's happiest memories were made during movie nights—simple moments that became family tradition. Sheila and Johnny Bunny bonded over reruns of COPS while devouring mac-n-cheese, the kind that tastes better when eaten beside someone you love. She and Tricia faithfully kept up with The Young and the Restless, offering running commentary on everyone's poor life decisions. And the grandkids knew that whether it was Lassie or a spooky thriller, Grandma Sheila would be right there with them—laughing, gasping, or pretending not to be scared.

Sheila's life was stitched together with love, loyalty, humor, and grit. She was the kind of woman who didn't need grand gestures to leave an impression; she left her mark in quieter ways—through kindness, through laughter, through making sure no one ever felt alone. She lived simply but loved deeply, and that is a legacy worth carrying forward.

Though her earthly chapter has closed, Sheila's spirit lives on in every story told, every inside joke remembered, and every movie night held in her honor. She is finally at rest, reunited with those she loved who went before her, leaving behind a world touched and brightened by her presence.