Colaire, Philip of Boston, formerly of Dominica, West Indies, December 5, 2008. Beloved husband of Chanmoni (Beechan) Colaire.Son of Fedalize Bougouneau. Father of Alain, Marcus and Jessica. Step Father of Charles, Robert, Ridge, Beanka. Brother of Martin, Lloyd, Jeff, Grantley, Felix and Lincoln, Eulah Jeanette, Marilyn, Shirley, Sonia, Annette and Olivette. Funeral From the Brady & Fallon Funeral Home 10 Tower St. (Opp. Forest Hills MBTA Station) JAMAICA PLAIN on Saturday December 13 at 8:30 AM, followed by a Funeral Mass in St. Mark's Church 1725 Dorchester Ave. Dorchester at 10 AM. Relatives and friends are invited. Interment to follow the funeral mass at Mt. Hope Cemetery. Philip was born on January 23, 1953 in Dominica, West Indies to Keith Colaire and Fedalize Bougouneau. At a very early age he lived with his father and adopted mother where he blended into the family. He became very popular with his new family and adapted very well to that environment. After he left school, he worked at various jobs and was very generous with the little money that he made, and provided much help to his mother in raising his siblings. My ‘knot’ as he was affectionately called by most of his friends and room mates depicted the kind of friendship that he had established during his early working years in Dominica. He migrated to Guadeloupe in the mid 70s where he eventually immersed himself in the construction trade. He devoted his time in learning the skills of that trade and later boasted of his quality of work and the lack of dedication and perfection that his counterparts displayed in that craft. Throughout his life time he had cultivated an environment that drew people around him. It was noticeable to see the many strangers he would welcome to his home who had been displaced in a search for new opportunities away from their homes. He provided them temporary accommodation that paved the way for great relationships and some bitter disappointments. He would become frustrated with individuals who had received help at some critical time in their lives and would turn away from an opportunity to repay the gratitude that they had received. That did not deter him from continuing to help stranded folks but he became selective in his approach to the people he would help. One of the catch phrases he often used to alert people who would try to take advantage of him was “mister! Who you think I am?” Philip had developed a passion for cooking having learned this skill from the many people that helped shaped his early life as a teenager. His adopted mother impacted him the most in that area along with the older cooks in the neighborhood. He believed that food tasted better if cooked fresh from the garden or the market. The thought of having to eat processed foods was a compromise and would make him cringe when he had no choice of altering the meal. He enjoyed the Caribbean meals that was cooked for him by his family and friends whilst hospitalized. The hospital meals were not an option. At the end he fought a silent battle. As he grappled with that illness, one would sense the frustration within him because he was powerless to change that situation in his life -- something that he was used to do. Many who knew him will remember the tough times he had to live through and how he made his way through them, while continuing to help those in need, and maintaining great and lasting friendships.