Sobers, Litchfield Augustas

Sobers, Litchfield Augustas
12 Dec
2017

Litchfield Augustas Sobers, age 89, of Mount Gay, St. Lucy and formerly of Cott, age, St. Lucy, Member of the Alexandria New Testament Church of God, Son of the late Eursula and Wilbert Sobers, Husband of the late Thelma Sobers, Father of Courtney, Anthony, Ruel and Gregory Sobers, Waveny Foster, Gillian Milington and the late Janet and Randolph Sobers, Brother of Emanuel Sobers, Grandfather of Pedro and Junior Foster, Jamel, Laron and Mitchel Sobers of the Barbados Defence Force, Shakira Sobers, Jamari Boyce, Charese Reid, Carol-ann Leacock and many others, Great Grandfather of Rianna and Niyal Foster, Uncle of Ann Sobers, Rosita Burgess, Maria, Ezra, Vanroid and Sheldon Sobers, Pearline Jordan-Rock and many others, Cousin of Thelma Boyce and many others, Father-in-law of David Foster and Godfrey Millington, Brother-in-law of the late Doris Edwards, Relative of the Sobers, Babb, Armstrong, Boyce and Atwell families, Friend of Delores Thompson and many others


The funeral of Litchfield Agustus Sobers leaves the Christovel Tyrrel Chapel of North Eastern Funeral Home on Tuesday, December 12th, 2017 at 2:00 p.m. for St. Lucy Parish Church, Nestfield, St. Lucy, where relatives and friends are asked to meet at 3:30 p.m. for the Service of Thanksgiving, followed by the burial in the churchyard.


The Organist is asked to attend.

Wreaths may be sent to Fern Greaves Funeral Services, Mount View Drive, St. Lucy no later than 1:45 p.m. on Tuesday.

Viewing takes place in the Christovel Tyrrel Chapel of North Eastern Funeral Home from 4:00 p.m. until 6:00 pm. on Monday.

Condolences to the family can be emailed to This email address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it. or posted online to fernsfuneralservices.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.