Cox, Delores Delyra

Cox, Delores Delyra
26 Feb
2018

Delores Delyra Cox née Clarke, age 66, of Block 1G, Pavillion Terrace, Deacons Farm, St. Michael, Daughter of the late Gerald and Beryl Cox, Loving-Wife of Michael Cox, Treasured-Mother of Suzanne Cox-Barton of the Barbados Revenue Authority and Sanchia Cox-Walcott of the U.S.A., Grandmother of Jade Cox and Ariel Walcott of the U.S.A., Sister of Barbara and Coleridge Clarke and Valerie and Tyrone Cox, Aunt of Kay Turner of the U.S.A., Rakiyah Sherry, Keisha and Kimberly Crichlow, Rasheed, Rashad and Rasheda Cox, Mother-in-law of Michael Barton of Massey Warrens and Troy Walcott of the U.S.A., Sister-in-law of Clement and Mark Cox both of the U.S.A., Relative of the Bacchus, Agard and Cox families, Friend of Avril “Betty” Barrow and the late Clyde Taitt and many others.


The funeral of Delores Delyra Cox née Clarke leave the Paramount Funeral Home, Hindsbury Road, St. Michael on Friday, 02nd February, 2018 at 1:30 p.m. for St. Leonard’s Anglican Church, Westbury Road, St. Michael, where relatives and friends are asked to meet at 2:45 p.m. for the Service of Thanksgiving, followed by the Interment.

The Organist and members of the Church Choir are asked to attend.

Floral Tributes may be sent to Paramount Funeral Home no later than 1:15 p.m. on Friday 02nd February, 2018.

A collection will be taken during the service for the building of St. Leonard’s Church Parish Centre.

The body will repose for viewing in the Chapel of Paramount Funeral Home from 4:00 p.m. until 6:00 p.m. on Thursday 01st February, 2018.

Condolences can be sent to This email address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it.

  • Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night
    Do not go gentle into that good night, Old age should burn and rave at close of day; Rage, rage against the dying of the light.   Though wise men at their end know dark is right, Because their words had forked no lightening they Do not go gentle into that good night.   Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay, Rage, rage against the dying of the light.   Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight, And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way, Do not go gentle into that good night.   Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay, Rage, rage against the dying of the light.   And you, my father, there on the sad height, Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray. Do not go gentle into that good night. Rage, rage against the dying of the light.