Daphne Maher
Daphne Maher
In memory of:
BORN
22/04/1937
SUNSET
09/03/2025
VENUE
Nazareth House, Enterprise Road, Harare
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18 Comments
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Fond memories growing up visiting and staying with great Aunty Daphne and David. Her wonderful hospitality and cooking I will always love you both.
To a wonderful lady who touched our lives in such a positive way. A very special aunt, thank you for being so kind and supportive. We will miss you terribly, but will remember all the good times and your wonderful nature. Love Geoff and Denice
Dearest Judy, Ange and Paul – You are living testimony of what wonderful people your Mom and Dad were. I did not know your folks, but can only imagine how wicked their sense of humour was and how bright and embracing they were – that all lives on in you. Breathe deep and cherish all those good times. Sending much love. Lynda
Thanks Lynda – very kind words
A special friend for over 40 years to Des and Rose—your warmth, kindness, and wonderful sense of humour will be deeply missed.
You were a generous soul and a truly gifted teacher.
We will always cherish the memories of our many wonderful holidays together and the happy times with all the FLIMS.
With love and fond remembrance,
Condolences to Judy, Angela, Paul and their families
Rose Foley and the Fincham family
Dear Judy, Angela and Paul. So sorry for the loss of your dear Mother so soon after your Dad. Our condolences to you and all the family. Jenny Schneider and my sister Anne and family
Such fond memories of both Uncle David and Auntie Daphne. Wish that I had been able to see them more as an adult. Thinking of your family at this time and sending love xxx (Anne and Paul’s daughter)
Rest in Peace lovely lady- you who walked the walk of a true pioneer – from Your young days in Kimberley to final twilight years in Harare…
You left a memorable imprint on all who shared some time with you.. .. go gently into that Dark Night
Thinking of you all at this difficult time. Rosemary and I enjoyed our times with Daphne and David, both in UK and Harare. Though we were a little worried when David insisted that we all get out the car and have a walk in Kruger Park.
Granny was really kind, really comforting, a great teacher and just a really wonderful positive person to be around.
I feel extremely lucky to have had her as such an exceptional grandmother. I have amazing memories of spending time with her at 122 Harare Drive and at Larmenier which I will always cherish.
Staying over at Granny’s was always my preferred place to be. I remember Tim got me a shirt when I was little saying “I’d rather be at Grandma’s” and that was basically the absolute truth! I would walk or ride over to her house as often as I could.
I have memories of so many engaging activities with her growing up, playing pairs, doing puzzles, helping her bake or her reading me nursery rhymes.
I will miss you greatly Granny, thank you so much for everything.
Dear Judes, Angie, Paul and extended family. What a sad day for you today, losing your Mum, and your Dad so close together.
Daphne played such a large part in my life, fetching and carrying from school, feeding me, entertaining me in her home. I always felt so welcome and loved there. I loved her naughty laugh and her ability to smooth over any troubled waters. She was funny, kind, loving and massively respected by her family and so many other people.
Fly high beautiful Daphne, the world has angels, and you were definitely one of them. You will be very sorely missed. And I am eternally grateful that I knew you.
Rest in peace, warm, kind, funny and gentle Aunt Daphne, reunited now with Uncle David.
Dear Judy, Angela, Paul and your families, please accept our sympathy, we have wonderful memories of times spent with your parents.
With love,
Myles and Cecilia
What a wonderful lady! Fondest memories of her as head of the infants school – a legend. Fly high Daphne xxx
Daphne and I shared many special times partnering to teach the Grade 2s at St. Michaels. What a special woman! Always full of wisdom and kindness and a sense of humor too. She shared her teaching skills and knowledge with me and I learnt so much from her. We also shared a great faith in Jesus and spent many a time talking about Him. Until we meet again Daphne.
I remember granny always used to tell me (in song form of course) to “stay as sweet as you are, dont let a thing change you, stay as sweet as you are don’t let a thing rearrange you”. I remember she also used to spend hours making little lessons for me to do while I was over at her house. She would bring me coloring books, puzzles, spelling tests, and the occasional times table. She embodied kindness in every way.
Dear Judy Angela and Paul we had such great times visiting your parents-Daphne and David were a perfect match.It was a privilege to know them .Our condolences to you all love Paul and Anne
On Friday, the family gathered to celebrate the life and legacy of a remarkable woman—my grandmother.
Though my words may not fully encapsulate the depth of my feelings, I find solace in
knowing that the memories we share of her will never fade. There are so many things I wish
I had said to her, but today, I take this moment to speak not just to her but to my grandfather
as well, whose unwavering love and devotion to her throughout their lives will always remain
a powerful paradigm in ours.
Despite living in many places throughout my life, there has always been one place that has
truly felt like home—Harare. It was the place my family and I returned to most often, and the
reason for that was simple. It was the home of my grandparents, and for as long as I can
remember, they have been one of the few constants in our lives. It’s hard to imagine a
Zimbabwe, a Harare, without them—without the warmth, the love, and the sense of
belonging that they gave us each time we visited.
I can’t help but think of all the memories we made in their home on Harare Drive, where
countless nights were spent around the fire, basking in the warmth of the crackling flames
and good company whenever the power went out. Granny’s sandwiches, which she made
for us grandkids after a long day playing outside in the garden, and the scent of sherry or
brandy accompanied by that lopsided grin, smudged mascara, and a twinkle in her eye that
told you everything you needed to know about how much love she felt for her family. Her
strength, caring heart, and dignity radiated from her in so many moments like these, and
that’s something I will never forget.
There were “production breakfasts”, and late afternoon get-togethers full of banter and
laughter that always sparked to greater life whenever her three children were together, never
failing to add a magnetic and lively energy in the room. And then there were those bedtime
stories, first from Granny—tales of fairies and princesses that made my little heart soar with
imagination—and then from Grandpa, who would take over from her sometimes with tales of
witches and goblins. Stories that, although left us with a sense of slight unease, were always
told with such a comforting voice that I couldn’t help but be grateful for them.
Even Granny’s admonishments, though sharp at times (and often while teaching), were
entertaining more than biting. I remember Grandpa’s placid smiles, nodding in agreement
when we all knew he couldn’t hear a word she was saying. Their love, in its own unique way,
was a language all its own.
Granny was my best hype woman. No matter what I did, no matter where I went, she always
made me feel like I was the most important person in the room. She always made sure to
remind me to “expose myself,” a phrase that will forever bring a smile to my face, though it
may have earned its fair share of cheeky comments from the family. She truly had a way of
making everyone feel special, of making everyone feel loved.
One of my fondest memories will always be rifling through Granny’s makeup and jewelry
whenever I visited—there was always something to discover, something that felt like a secret
treasure. But more than anything, Granny’s strength is what has stayed with me. She was
one of the strongest women I’ve ever known, and yet, no matter how hard she worked, her
hands were always soft, a contradiction that spoke volumes about her love and care.
And then, there was Grandpa—my Grandpa, who showed me love in a way that was quiet
and steady. I remember, at the age of six, crashing his prized forest green Jaguar. His
near-inhuman restraint in that moment is something that will stay with me forever. He was a
man who allowed us to roam free, to make magic out of his musty old history books in the
shed out back, pretending they were spell books and ancient tomes. It was his patience, his
calmness, that taught me so much about how love is sometimes shown in the quietest of
actions, like the way he would straighten Granny’s jumper or the way he made her tea every
single morning. His love was unwavering, as he tended to her quietly but constantly into their
old age.
So while they may no longer be here, the qualities and traditions my grandparents had are
ones that I’ve strived to carry forward in my own life. Granny’s remarkable ability to strike up
a conversation with anyone, whether they were a close friend or a complete stranger, is
something I deeply admired and still try to emulate. I also hold on to grandpa’s habit of
wearing driving gloves, and now, I keep a pair in my car whenever the sun is shining, just as
he did. And, of course, there’s the lit candles at the dinner table, a practice that always
brought warmth and connection to our family meals.
Just as their impact on our lives will never fade, as we say goodbye today, I know that my
grandparents’ voices will not fade. Granny’s bellowing of Grandpa’s name will continue to
echo in our hearts, haunting us in the best possible way, and it will now have followed
Grandpa too into the afterlife.
I love you, Granny and Grandpa, and I miss you.
On Friday, the family gathered to celebrate the life and legacy of a remarkable woman—my grandmother. Though my words may not fully encapsulate the depth of my feelings, I find solace in knowing that the memories we share of her will never fade. There are so many things I wish I had said to her, but wanted to take this moment now to speak not just to her but to my grandfather as well, whose unwavering love and devotion to her throughout their lives will always remain a powerful paradigm in ours.
Despite living in many places throughout my life, there has always been one place that has truly felt like home—Harare. It was the place my family and I returned to most often, and the reason for that was simple. It was the home of my grandparents, and for as long as I can remember, they have been one of the few constants in our lives. It’s hard to imagine a Zimbabwe, a Harare, without them—without the warmth, the love, and the sense of belonging that they gave us each time we visited.
I can’t help but think of all the memories we made in their home on Harare Drive, where countless nights were spent around the fire, basking in the warmth of the crackling flames and good company whenever the power went out. Granny’s sandwiches, which she made for us grandkids after a long day playing outside in the garden, and the scent of sherry or brandy accompanied by that lopsided grin, smudged mascara, and a twinkle in her eye that told you everything you needed to know about how much love she felt for her family. Her strength, caring heart, and dignity radiated from her in so many moments like these, and that’s something I will never forget.
There were “production breakfasts”, and late afternoon get-togethers full of banter and laughter that always sparked to greater life whenever her three children were together, never failing to add a magnetic and lively energy in the room.
And then there were those bedtime stories, first from Granny—tales of fairies and princesses that made my little heart soar with imagination – and then from Grandpa, who would take over from her sometimes with tales of witches and goblins. Stories that, although left us with a sense of slight unease, were always told with such a comforting voice that I couldn’t help but be grateful for them.
Even Granny’s admonishments, though sharp at times (and often while teaching), were entertaining more than biting. I remember Grandpa’s placid smiles, nodding in agreement when we all knew he couldn’t hear a word she was saying. Their love, in its own unique way, was a language all its own.
Granny was my best hype woman. No matter what I did, no matter where I went, she always made me feel like I was the most important person in the room. She always made sure to remind me to “expose myself,” a phrase that will forever bring a smile to my face, though it
may have earned its fair share of cheeky comments from the family. She truly had a way of making everyone feel special, of making everyone feel loved.
One of my fondest memories will always be rifling through Granny’s makeup and jewelry whenever I visited—there was always something to discover, something that felt like a secret treasure. But more than anything, Granny’s strength is what has stayed with me. She was one of the strongest women I’ve ever known, and yet, no matter how hard she worked, her
hands were always soft, a contradiction that spoke volumes about her love and care.
And then, there was Grandpa—my Grandpa, who showed me love in a way that was quiet
and steady. I remember, at the age of six, crashing his prized forest green Jaguar. His near-inhuman restraint in that moment is something that will stay with me forever. He was a man who allowed us to roam free, to make magic out of his musty old history books in the shed out back, pretending they were spell books and ancient tomes. It was his patience, his
calmness, that taught me so much about how love is sometimes shown in the quietest of actions, like the way he would straighten Granny’s jumper or the way he made her tea every single morning. His love was unwavering, as he tended to her quietly but constantly into their old age.
So while they may no longer be here, the qualities and traditions my grandparents had are ones that I’ve strived to carry forward in my own life. Granny’s remarkable ability to strike up a conversation with anyone, whether they were a close friend or a complete stranger, is
something I deeply admired and still try to emulate. I also hold on to grandpa’s habit of wearing driving gloves, and now, I keep a pair in my car whenever the sun is shining, just as he did. And, of course, there’s the lit candles at the dinner table, a practice that always brought warmth and connection to our family meals.
Just as their impact on our lives will never fade, as we say goodbye to them now, I know that my grandparents’ voices will not fade. Granny’s bellowing of Grandpa’s name will continue to echo in our hearts, haunting us in the best possible way, and it will now have followed Grandpa too into the afterlife.
I love you, Granny and Grandpa, and I miss you.