Robinson, Dorothy Elmina
04 Oct
2018

Robinson, Dorothy Elmina

Published in OBITUARIES P - T

Dorothy Elmina Robinson nee Armstrong, affectionately known as “Aunt Doll” or “Dolly”, of Bank Hall Main Road, St. Michael, Wife of the late Oscar Merton Robinson, Mother of Ferdinand and Michael Robinson and Sha-rel Robinson Barrow - all of the U.S.A., Anson Robinson of Cayman Islands, Wayne, Ah-vuh and Neal Robinson of Barbados, Grandmother of Keena Gardier, Uh-my-yuh Robinson Reece, Nailah and Avani Connell - all of Barbados and seventeen others, Great-grandmother of eleven, Aunt of Joan, Linnett and Miranda Armstrong, Jacqueline Murray and six others, Relative of the Armstrong, Redman, Searles, Moore, Sinckler, Nicholls and Thomas families and the Brathwaite family of Canada and many others, Mother-in-law of Angela Robinson and four others, Friend of the Devonish, Alleyne and Boyce families, the members of the James Street Methodist Church, the Doctors and Nurses of Brandford Taitt Polyclinic and many others

The funeral of Dorothy Elmina Robinson nee Armstrong leaves the Belmont Funeral Home, Belmont Road, St. Michael on Saturday, 06th October, 2018 at 8:30 a.m. for the James Street Methodist Church where relatives and friends are asked to meet at 10:00 a.m. for the service. The funeral will then proceed to the Coral Ridge Memorial Gardens, The Ridge, Christ Church for the interment.

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

Flowers may be sent to the Belmont Funeral Home no later than 8:00 a.m. on Saturday.

Tributes will commence at 9:30 a.m. until the start of the service.

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

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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.