Husbands, Violet Iona

Husbands, Violet Iona
26 Feb
2018

Violet Iona Husbands, age 88, of Checker Hall, St. Lucy - member of the Fustic Wesleyan Holiness Church, Half Moon Fort, St. Lucy, Daughter of the late William and Ethel Husbands, Sister of Coleen Chandler, Stepna Smith and the late Edna Greaves and Gwendolyn Babb, Aunt of Adrian and Janice Babb, Percy Greaves, Greta Hinds and many others, Great-Aunt of Petronella Babb, Wincrest and Joy Graham, Marlyn Wilson-Armstrong, Andrea Burkhead both of U.S.A. and many others, Cousin of many, Relative of the Husbands, Graham, Smith, Greaves, Babb and Broomes families, Friend of many.


The funeral of Violet Iona Husbands leaves Earl’s Funeral Home, Half Moon Fort, St. Lucy, on Thursday 1st February, 2018 at 11:00 a.m. for Fustic Wesleyan Holiness Church, Half Moon Fort, St. Lucy, where relatives and friends are asked to meet at 1:00 p.m. for a Service of Thanksgiving. The cortege will then proceed to St. Lucy Parish Church, Near Nestfield, at 3:30 p.m. for the Second Service and interment

The organist is asked to attend.

Floral tributes may be sent to Earl’s Funeral Home no later than 11:00 a.m. on Thursday.

Relatives and friends can visit in the chapel of Earl’s Funeral Home, Half Moon Fort, St. Lucy to reflect the memories of Violet Iona Husbands from 4:00 p.m. until 6:00 p.m. on Wednesday.

Condolences can be made online at www.earlsfuneralhome.com or visit us on Facebook.

  • 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.