Nurse, Gloria Emil

Nurse, Gloria Emil
27 Feb
2017

Gloria Emil Nurse, age 84, affectionately known as ‘Emel’, of Fair View Hill, Christ Church, Faithful member of the Fair View Church of the Nazarene, Loving wife of Earl Nurse, Mother of Sherwin Greenidge, Melanie Blackman, and Sheldon Nurse, Grandmother of Michaila, Mario, Marlon, Shemar, Shae, and D'Shawnm, Sister of the late Errol Pilgrim, Sister-in-law of Maitland, Seymour, Lawson, and Neville Nurse, Friend of Jacqueline Jordan, Grace Prescod, Esther Walcott, Cecily Smith, Lyla Yarde, Glaydes Searle, Margo Jordan, Cynthia Dickson, Brenda Blackman, the Congregation of the Fair View Church of the Nazarene and many others.


The funeral of Gloria Emil Nurse leaves Clyde B. Jones Funeral Home, Top Rock, Christ Church, on Friday, February 24 at 8:00 a.m. for St. Patrick’s Anglican Church, St. Patrick’s, Christ Church, where relatives and friends are asked to meet at 9:30 a.m. for a Service of Thanksgiving, followed by interment in the Churchyard.


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

Floral tributes may be delivered to Clyde B. Jones Funeral Home no later than 7:30 a.m. on Friday.


A collection will be taken towards the Church’s Restoration Fund.


To express condolences visit www.clydebjonesfuneralhome.com

  • 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.