Fans of Black Sabbath were left in tears as Sharon Osbourne made a poignant and emotional tribute to her late husband, Ozzy Osbourne. On Wednesday, July 30, the grieving matriarch stood beside her children—Jack, Kelly, and the rarely-seen Aimee—as thousands lined the streets of Birmingham to honor the legendary rocker’s life.
Outside the iconic Black Sabbath bench, a sea of floral tributes had grown, with fans leaving hundreds of bouquets in memory of the Prince of Darkness. Sharon and her children gently added to the tribute, each placing a single lilac bloom wrapped in black paper atop the vibrant wave of flowers.
A black hearse carried Ozzy’s casket through the city he helped immortalize, adorned with a purple cross and his name spelled in white flowers—a final nod to the man who forever changed the face of rock.
Ozzy Osbourne, the iconic frontman and reality TV star, passed away last week at the age of 76, just weeks after delivering a powerful final performance during the Back to the Beginning farewell concert.

The streets of Birmingham were draped in sorrow and remembrance as thousands gathered to say goodbye to one of rock’s most iconic figures—Ozzy Osbourne. At the heart of it all was Sharon Osbourne, his wife of more than four decades, who broke down in tears as she honored her beloved husband with a simple yet powerful gesture: two peace signs held high above her head.
“It is with more sadness than mere words can convey that we have to report that our beloved Ozzy Osbourne has passed away this morning,” the family said in a statement. “He was with his family and surrounded by love. We ask everyone to respect our family’s privacy at this time.”
The peace signs, long associated with Ozzy throughout his legendary career, became a focal point of the emotional farewell. Fans instantly recognized the tribute as deeply personal—an authentic symbol of the man they had adored since the 1970s. While many billboards and social media tributes featured the now-ubiquitous “devil horns” gesture, loyal followers pointed out that Ozzy’s signature had always been the double peace sign.
One longtime fan shared on Facebook:
“Just an observation from a guy who has been a Sabbath/Ozzy fan since the ’70s… Ozzy’s gesture has always been the double peace sign. Dio brought the horns, but the peace sign—that was Ozzy’s. Let’s remember just another one of the things he gave us.”
Ozzy’s final journey through Birmingham was filled with heartfelt tributes. The black hearse, adorned with a floral arrangement spelling out his name and a striking purple cross, slowly passed the iconic Black Sabbath bench and the modest terrace home at 14 Lodge Road where his story began.
Sharon, joined by children Jack, Kelly, and the rarely seen Aimee, laid lilac flowers wrapped in black paper atop a sea of fan-donated bouquets. As the procession passed, the Bostin Brass Band played reimagined versions of Ozzy’s songs, and fans tossed flowers across the vehicle in reverence.
Even the Lord Mayor of Birmingham, Zafar Iqbal, stood among the crowd. Embracing Sharon, he shared heartfelt words:
“Ozzy was more than a music legend—he was a son of Birmingham. We’re proud to host this farewell in the city where it all began, and grateful that his family allowed us to take part in giving him the tribute he deserves.”
The send-off came just weeks after Ozzy’s powerful performance at the Back to the Beginning concert at Villa Park. In one bittersweet twist, the rocker had previously told The Times, with trademark humor:
“I honestly don’t care what they play at my funeral—they can put on a medley of Justin Bieber, Susan Boyle, and ‘We Are The Diddymen’ if it makes ’em happy.”
But for the fans who stood shoulder to shoulder in Birmingham, mourning with Sharon and her children, there was only one tune in the air—gratitude for a man who redefined rock, remained fiercely himself, and gave the world not just music, but a lasting peace sign of rebellion and love.
In true Ozzy fashion, the Prince of Darkness didn’t want his final goodbye to be shrouded in sorrow. Known for his humor as much as his music, he once joked about how he’d like his funeral to go:
“I do want to make sure it’s a celebration, not a mope-fest. I’d also like some pranks—maybe the sound of knocking inside the coffin, or a video of me asking my doctor for a second opinion on his diagnosis of ‘death.’”
Behind the jokes, though, was a deeper message—one of gratitude.
“There’ll be no harping on the bad times. It’s worth remembering that a lot of people see nothing but misery their whole lives. So by any measure, most of us in this country—especially rock stars like me—are very lucky. That’s why I don’t want my funeral to be sad. I want it to be a time to say, ‘Thanks.’”
And that’s exactly what thousands of fans, family, and friends did in Birmingham: they didn’t just mourn a legend—they celebrated a life that changed music forever, and a man who never lost his sense of humor, humility, or heart.