Hilliman, Millicent

Hilliman, Millicent
10 Jul

Millicent Hilliman, age 102, of Gall Hill, #1, St John, Wife of the late Elliott Hilliman, Mother of Bertram and Neville Fleming, Dolores Hilliman McClean of the U.S.A. and the late Chelston Hilliman, Niece of Bernice Walrond of Canada and Rosaire Alleyne of the U.K., Grandmother of Randy, Angela, Meldine, Roseann, Sean, Rosemary, Christopher, Elissa, Eric, Selena, Nicole, Cassandra, Vanessa and Neville Jr. of the U.S.A. and the late Mary Fleming, Great-Grandmother of twenty-four, Great-Great-Grandmother of eighteen of the U.S.A., Relative of the Fleming and Forde families and Nigel Bradshaw and Kelly McCleanaa, Friend of Jean Hazelwood, the Browne family, Member and Staff of the Salem Retreat Nursing Home and many others

The funeral of Millicent Hilliman leaves the Belmont Funeral Home, Belmont Road, St. Michael on Friday, July 06th, 2018 at 1:45 p.m. for the St. John’s Parish Church, where relatives and friends are asked to meet at 3:30 p.m. for the service. The cortege will then proceed to the St. John’s Parish Church Cemetery for the interment.

The Organist and members of the choir are asked to attend.

Floral arrangements may be sent to the Belmont Funeral Home not later than 1:15 p.m. on Friday.

Viewing of the body will take place at the Belmont Funeral Home from 3:30 p.m. until 5:30 p.m. on Thursday.

  • Stop all the clocks
    Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone, Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone. Silence the pianos and with muffled drum Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come. Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead Scribbling on the sky the message He is Dead, Put crépe bows round the white necks of the public doves, Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves. He was my North, my South, my East and West, My working week and my Sunday rest, My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song, I thought that love would last forever: 'I was wrong' The stars are not wanted now, put out every one; Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun; Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood. For nothing now can ever come to any good.