Who you’ll plan with
Founded by McCall Gray, this company was built by a calling with heartfelt intention and a clear vision to offer an end of life service that captures more than tradition—a celebration that truly reflects the life being honored.
When McCall unexpectedly lost her longtime mentor and friend, Miss Leesa Lloyd—she experienced firsthand how even a well-meaning service can sometimes miss the vibrant fullness of a life. That moment became the quiet turning point and inspiration for McCall Gray—Celebrations of Life.
With a 7-year background as a live television producer and several more as a seasoned event planner for local catering companies, McCall brings a rare mix of creativity, grace under pressure, and logistical precision. She’s quick on her feet, skilled at making clear decisions in emotional moments, and especially gifted at guiding families through short-notice planning without overwhelm.
“Celebrations of Life were always the events that stayed with her—long after the chairs were stacked and the final goodbye was shared.”
Having walked through her own losses, McCall has stood where her clients stand now and understands the emotional weight families carry. With compassion and perspective, she meets each family with thoughtful care—lifting the weight of planning so you can focus on remembering, feeling, and celebrating.
With over a decade of experience and a genuine gift for storytelling through events, McCall offers a trusted hand during life’s most tender moment. She’ll hold every detail so you don’t have to, and walk beside you every step of the way.
This is not a funeral. It’s a tribute. A story. A celebration.
Let us help you tell it well.
Starting McCall Gray—Celebrations of Life was a soul decision.
I believe every life deserves a celebration that reflects the soul we knew—more than a formal goodbye. We deserve stories, music, color, light, laughter—an honest reflection of who they really are—honoring life in all its layers.
I walk with each family as if I’ve known them for years. I listen closely and lift the weight of planning from their shoulders. I ask questions that open hearts. I hold space when the air feels heavy. I take the time to understand the heart of the honoree—and I hold that heart carefully, always. And then I design a celebration that truly honors the essence of their loved one.
This company isn’t just a planning service—it’s a calling.
I do this in honor of and tribute to Miss Lloyd. Of every person I’ve lost. Of every family I’ve walked beside. Of anyone who’s ever left a service feeling, “There was so much more to them.”
This is the light and legacy I carry forward.
There’s always more to say.
More to celebrate.
More to remember.
And I’m here to help you tell it.
My Why
Grief has a strange way of shaping us.
For me, it became a bridge—linking this world to the next, past to present, sorrow to purpose. I’ve always felt deeply connected to those I’ve loved and lost. Their memories live in me—not just in reflection, but in moments of joy, small glimmers, familiar songs, and sudden moments of knowing. Their presence didn’t leave. It simply changed form.
But when I lost Miss Leesa Lloyd, the shift was seismic.
She was my Pageant Director when I served as Miss Murray, my mentor, my fiercest supporter, and my constant for over a decade. She believed in me before I fully believed in myself and helped shape the very fabric of who I am. Her passing left a silence that rang louder than words.
To the community, Leesa was Murray City royalty—beloved for leading the Miss America Scholarship Organization for over 44 years, teaching dance for over 36 years and educating students in sociology—shaping generations with her wit and wisdom. To me, she was the person who helped me grow during some of my most formative years—and one of the most important women in my life.
She passed just one month after I’d made a career shift—from seven years in live television to event planning. I didn’t yet realize it, but that timing was no accident. I didn’t know how to hold my grief, so I moved forward—quietly, tenderly.
Over time, something became clear. In planning all kinds of events, it was the Celebrations of Life that pulled me in completely, stayed with me, and stirred something deeper. And then came the glimmers. Subtle signs, then more insistent. They pointed me toward one truth: I was meant to help others navigate this sacred space of remembrance.
I came home to my partner one day with a fire in my chest and a vision I couldn’t shake. This—planning heartfelt, personal Celebrations of Life—was how I would honor Miss Lloyd. This was how I could begin to heal, and how I could help others do the same.