Maloney, Margaret Denese
09 Oct

Maloney, Margaret Denese

Published in OBITUARIES K - 0

Margaret Denese Maloney, of 17 Friendship Drive, Crane, St. Philip, formerly of Husbands Gardens, St. James and Bay View Avenue, Bayville, St. Michael, Daughter of the late Lionel Walter Maloney - former Chief Officer of Her Majesty’s Prisons Glendairy and Commissioner of Prisons of Grenada and the late Isolene Iotha Maloney, Sister of Angela and Rosma Maloney, Glenda Maloney- Miller and Antonio Grant - all of the U.S.A., Cynthia Yearwood of the U.K., Marcia, Barry and Walter Maloney of the National Housing Corporation, Marcia Stewart-Watson, Aunt of Rudy, Jennifer, Carole Maloney, Heather Maloney-Ifill, Joeanne Maloney and Kwame King of the U.S.A., Michelle Maloney-Smart, Wayne and Katheryn Stewart, Krystal Green and Louis Harewood of the UK and many others, Cousin of Edna Jordan, Freddie Holder, St. Clair Nurse, June Gibson, Betty and Andrew Maloney, Victor Harding, Karen Best, Margaret and Marcia Maynard, Sister-in-law of Theresa and Rosie Maloney, Archibald Millar of the U.S.A.

The funeral of Margaret Denese Maloney leaves the Paramount Funeral Home, Hindsbury Road, St. Michael on Wednesday October 10th, 2018, at 12:45 p.m. for St. Pauls Anglican Church, Bay Street, St. Michael, where relatives and friends are asked to meet at 2:00 p.m. for the Service of Thanksgiving. The cortege will then proceed to the Westbury Cemetery for the interment.

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

Floral Tributes may be sent to the Paramount Funeral Home no later than 12:30 p.m. on Wednesday.

The body will repose in the Chapel of Paramount Funeral Home from 4:00 p.m. until 6:00 p.m. on Tuesday October 9th, 2018.

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

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  • 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.