Still under the shock of Fons’ death, I will keep memories of him. As for some many others, he was very influential on my career and in my life. I spent a couple of research stays for more than a year (and actually coming and going for two) in Tilburg and I am truly grateful for all what I learned from him while working in joint projects. Apart from an academic fatherhood we have lost, I recognize a more profound impact on values for all working in Tilburg with him. I recall the moments some of us used to share before sending drafts of manuscripts or results to Fons or before meeting with him. That kind of nervousness and excitement… Will this be good enough for him? As we all wanted him to be proud of us and our work. It always seemed to be fine with him. I will also remember waking up really early (for my standards) to have a meeting with him, or the incredibly promptly and efficient email/skype replies any time of the day. I remember his good humour, his jokes, his patience when understanding some analyses took me some time. And I will also remember whenever I visit Tilburg again or meet Fons in a conference, he would proudly talk about all doctoral students, postdoc, or other colleagues he supervised or work with him. But one of the best memories I have from him comes from a time I was overworking, excessively focused on work and sometimes even neglecting healthy routines (sleep, food,…), so Fons talked to me (who and Fons!) to explain me that there are other things in life apart from work and that there was nothing bad about spending some minutes of the day having a cappuccino or doing something else. I replied I had no cappuccinos in life, and he recommended me to find ‘my capuccinos’ since those would make my life more enjoyable than just being an academic. Eventually I found my cappuccinos. I received the sad news on Fons’ death seated near the cross of the top of the mountain with new friends I made mountain biking: a real nice cappuccino that makes me very happy. Closer to the sky (heaven? I am not a believer but...) I thought I was really lucky to have met Fons; this year I have not published too many papers but I am pretty sure he would be equally proud of my cappuccino discovery as a path to happiness. So Fons is not dead; he will be alive in some parts of our lives anyway. Thanks for all your cross-cultural psychology but also life lessons, Fons.
Still under the shock of Fons’ death, I will keep memories of him. As for some many others, he was very influential on my career and in my life. I spent a couple of research stays for more than a year (and actually coming and going for two) in Tilburg and I am truly grateful for all what I learned from him while working in joint projects. Apart from an academic fatherhood we have lost, I recognize a more profound impact on values for all working in Tilburg with him. I recall the moments some of us used to share before sending drafts of manuscripts or results to Fons or before meeting with him. That kind of nervousness and excitement… Will this be good enough for him? As we all wanted him to be proud of us and our work. It always seemed to be fine with him. I will also remember waking up really early (for my standards) to have a meeting with him, or the incredibly promptly and efficient email/skype replies any time of the day. I remember his good humour, his jokes, his patience when understanding some analyses took me some time. And I will also remember whenever I visit Tilburg again or meet Fons in a conference, he would proudly talk about all doctoral students, postdoc, or other colleagues he supervised or work with him. But one of the best memories I have from him comes from a time I was overworking, excessively focused on work and sometimes even neglecting healthy routines (sleep, food,…), so Fons talked to me (who and Fons!) to explain me that there are other things in life apart from work and that there was nothing bad about spending some minutes of the day having a cappuccino or doing something else. I replied I had no cappuccinos in life, and he recommended me to find ‘my capuccinos’ since those would make my life more enjoyable than just being an academic. Eventually I found my cappuccinos. I received the sad news on Fons’ death seated near the cross of the top of the mountain with new friends I made mountain biking: a real nice cappuccino that makes me very happy. Closer to the sky (heaven? I am not a believer but...) I thought I was really lucky to have met Fons; this year I have not published too many papers but I am pretty sure he would be equally proud of my cappuccino discovery as a path to happiness. So Fons is not dead; he will be alive in some parts of our lives anyway. Thanks for all your cross-cultural psychology but also life lessons, Fons.
