Patrick Charles Fisher

January 2, 1930November 14, 2020

Patrick was born January 2, 1930 in Maymyo Burma, the son of Noreen and Donald, and passed peacefully in his sleep, at the age of 90 to return to his Lord, November 14th, 2020.

He led an exciting, adventurous life, with humour, spontaneity, persistence, generosity, charm, and the Irish way with words, with much love to share. Moving to England post WWII, with his first love, Marlene, he revelled in working on Rolls Royce engines, before joining the Royal Canadian Air Force, with Nato Forces in France and Germany. This led to Patrick, Marlene and his beloved daughters – Linda Rose and Jennifer Anne (husband Steve)– to move to Canada in 1956. Patrick was exceptionally proud to be a Canadian and a veteran, marching each year until his legs could go no further. But he would tell you it was to get the nicest pair of boots he’d ever seen. He met his second love, Margot, in Toronto on the tennis courts. With his entrepreneurial skills in scientific research, he pursued a career there, resulting in being hired at Varian Associates then Bruker-Physik. A desire for independence then led him to be a consultant in the fields of space communication and marine technology, establishing the Fisher Group of Companies. After moving to Vancouver Island in the mid-seventies he worked extensively with scientists at UVic and his own team of researchers, with many ensuing pioneering developments. He often flew to his second home of Geneva, for his patent research. Patrick joined the Oakwood community in Royal Oak, over 20 years ago, intending to enjoy his retirement. Though, truth be told, his ideas and passion wouldn’t let him stop creating patents and inventions.

He loved calling Vancouver Island his home and spending time with his two additional children, his son (Patrick David Dennis, wife Erin) and daughter (Lindsay Amaris Doyle, husband Blair). His family expanded to include many grandchildren, which were a constant joy and added to his rich life. He enjoyed the outdoors, cooking and sharing meals, inventing, telling amazing tales, gardening, Dim sum, chopping wood, silly jokes, his crows, and his dearly loved friends, including Judith Anne Clarke, John and Rayna Stone, to name only a few. And of course his constant studies in the Word of his Lord and Saviour. To quote Patrick in his wishes on his death “I would ask for a toast with a little Irish Jameson’s whiskey to a long, well travelled, grateful life”. Patrick will be sorely missed. A bright star is missing from the sky. Cheers, to the one and only PCF. We love you.

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Jeremy Mills

November 28, 2020

Uncle Patrick, "Big" Patrick as I knew him often smelled of freshly cut wood, chain oil and gasoline. He made the best poached eggs on toast and convinced me there was such a thing as magic. Shrouded in mystery, his history became legend. Some tales so large they are only overshadowed by the size of his heart. I will remember his smile and his optimism. I will think of him whenever I make a fire and I will miss him here until I see him again in Heaven.

Jen Fisher-Bradley

November 25, 2020

When I was very young, after coming to Canada, I remember watching dad get ready for an RCAF parade. I would peek into the bathroom while he shaved and be hovering around while he shone his boots. He got them so shiny. He said, "You have to be able to see your face, Jen." I loved to watch how he tied his air force blue tie and then don his cap. He looked so smart in the uniform and the pride dripped off him. He was always giving blood and he had a pin to show for it.
Dad loved music. He played guitar, ukelele, spoons and harmonica. He sang all the ususal cowboy songs to us when it was bedtime. Chase Me Charlie, Tom Dooley, Red River Valley, Home on the Range. I could feel the saddness in him that he would never express any other way but through those heartfelt tunes. And in recent years, while his health let him, he would call on our birthdays and play the birthday song on the harmonica. That was very special because it summed up all the many times we wern't together for birthdays.
Before my dear brother, Patrick, was born Dad had decided he would raise me as a son. I was out there in the garage handing him spanners. At age nine he said I needed to learn how to handle a rifle. So he took me out on the Bruce Trail and we shot at things together using his 22. He used to shoot gophers for the farmers, because they could ruin a field, he told me.
He and mum would dance at night in our dining room which had no table. There was the stereo and the empty floor, it was a place they could tango together. Sister and I would hear them laughing as they danced. He enjoyed making all of us laugh.
When Stephen and I got married in 2002 he really poured it on for all of us and it was a wonderful family celebration. We all spent the night together at the motel and he arranged for the limo to bring all of us women to the church where the ceremony was. Dad loved his family and we will always love him. I miss you Dad.


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