Hyacinth FernandesSend a message to

Hyacinth Fernandes

Hyacinth Fernandes

Dearest Daddy, You were a kind, modest and dignified man up until the day you left us. You taught us so much and gave us such good values to uphold. We saw and knew a dad who lead by example: a man fiercely proud of his heritage (Goa and being a Goan); and someone who was a staunch Catholic and whose religion underpinned his ethics and values throughout his long and impressive life. You reveled in your career as a Customs Officer in your younger days dad, and when you started working as a physiotherapist and bone-setter, you were absolutely “The Best” in your profession – no one was a patch on you. It gives us great comfort now knowing that you knew how good you were at your profession, but still how humble you were. You were devoted to us, your family – you cared so much for us, and about us, and you were so proud of the beautiful names you and mom gave us: your six daughters - you always used our full names. You loved the home and beautiful gardens which you and mom created together for us, and which, as I write this tribute to you, are filled with a myriad of cheerful Spring flowers. I remember so much about you dad, which I want to share with others, and which I want to tell you: how you always derived great pleasure from the fact that you looked so much younger than your true age (it still amuses me); how you loved being part of the Mando group and church choir; how you enjoyed singing and entertaining people playing your harmonica; how you were adamant that each of us learn a musical instrument (and we all did!); how you insisted we drink plenty of water (such good advice); and how you ‘encouraged’ (actually – forced!) all of us to get out of bed early every Saturday & Sunday to ‘exercise’ in the front room in Mombasa – with all the doors and windows wide open. I was always afraid one of your patients would walk in on this odd gym class. I remember your unique way of telling a story or a joke and how we loved listening to you even though we’d heard them before – in fact many times, we would ask you to ‘tell’ us a treasured joke! When you & mom came to England to join us, I remember your many friends turning up at our house in Chesham to ‘chauffeur’ you all over England to treat people everywhere. Often, you would volunteer to make your own way home on public transport after treating them, not wanting to cause inconvenience to your friends. You walked up White Hill in Chesham, a steep hill that should really have been called White Mountain! You never ever complained about the erratic trains or even the harsh weather in England (which I know came as a shock to you after the warmth of Mombasa). Dad, you helped me with my violin practice; with driving; with my bike; and of course – using your magical hands on my head whenever I had my frequent headaches. For sure when God created you, dad, he broke the mold. Yes, we were very close, and I will miss you so much. I was lucky to have you for so long. Thank you for everything, my wonderful Dad. Love you loads – your (favourite) daughter, Hyacinth.

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