Elsa Compton

It is with great sadness that we announce the passing of Elsa "Mimi" Compton at 72 years old on January 18, 2023 at St. Francis Hospital in Tulsa, OK. She resided with her daughter Keri in Tulsa, OK until her passing.

Elsa was born September 17, 1950 in New York City, New York to Provedencia Quinones and Roberto Arencibia. She married once to Kenneth Van Compton for 17 years, now divorced.

Elsa was a woman of many trades, from working as an aerobics instructor in her younger years, to her attendance at Tulsa Tech for Phlebotomy which led her to work in various Tulsa hospitals, to her moment in sales. She was also an avid wanderer, living from New York down to Texas, but generally resided in Tulsa. Elsa was a creative soul above all else; shown in her paintings, her fashion design, her dancing, and her landscaping. Unafraid to laugh at herself; she would call herself the "One Tit Wonder" after her battle with breast cancer. She was a lover of spandex, insistent that "if it came in her size it was meant for her"; and a hater of the dentures she paid well over $1,000 for, and never wore; and had a humorous way of showing her affection; as we thought she was coddling us as she would rub our backs and croon "sano culito"; which in reality meant "healthy ass".

She is predeceased by her parents, her sister Olga, and her niece Tamara "Tammy" Knecht.

She leaves behind her brother Ronald "Papo" Perez; her two children Kenneth "Kenny" Compton and Keri Lynch; her niece and nephew Patricia and Charles Knecht; and her grandchildren Chris Compton, Adam Compton, Krysten Black, Alyssa Hamilton, Radleigh Compton, Antoinette and Nancy Knecht, Nikkco's Black, Clive Compton, Shawn Black, Zakeri Black, Memory Black, and a steadily growing number of great grandchildren.

No public services have been scheduled at this time.

Arrangements are entrusted to Schaudt's Tulsa Funeral Service.

Elsa was the brightest sun and the darkest cloud. The giver of laughs and the donator of smacks. She could create beauty from ugliness, and make plants grow from a single stem.

Bring life into what was seemingly dead.

She was a creative mind, and brutally abrupt. We knew she loved us, even when that love came with dodging shoes, harsh words in English and Spanish, and her predictable unpredictability.

She could turn a shack into a museum. A yard of weeds into an array of beauty. A blank canvas into a work of art.

She was spirited. Never wanted to grow roots anywhere. Never held her tongue.

She was good and bad.

Soft and hard.

Love and hate.

She was unforgettable.