Mummy, It has been a year since tragedy struck our family out of the blue, with your death that resulted from the terrible incident on Thursday 3 June 2004. We still cannot believe that you died buried under the debris of your own home and belongings.
Although life kept going on for us, and, at a glance, all of us, your family, seem to be all right, the facts are completely different. This year has been a nightmare for all of us, and it is only now that we are beginning to come to terms with what has really happened.
Who could have ever guessed that this was going to be the final day of your life? Please do not ask us what we have been through this year, a year of misery, and so many horrible memories of a terrible tragedy that took you away from us. A year full of unanswered questions, bewilderment and a sadness that no words could ever describe.
For me you were a mother so dear. You always managed to make time for all of us – your family – you always put us first leaving you with little time for yourself. You unselfishly found time for everything and everyone. So many have told me that in you they always found a person ready to listen and to help. Everybody knew what a trustworthy person you were. Those who knew you trusted you and always sought to confide their problems in you. This could only happen because these people knew you as a reliable woman. The people, who used to meet you going to or returning from the 6.50am Mass, still think that this was just a bad dream, but alas, it isn’t so!
Mummy, all the people of St Paul’s Bay still talk about you. How can anyone of them, including the children in our village, the summer residents and all those who attended your private lessons, forget how much of your own time you used to dedicate to prepare the girls of St Paul’s Bay for Confirmation and to guide them in their education? Those who had known you for a long time and those who knew you for a shorter time continue to show their respect to the present day. This clearly shows what kind of person you were… a person the village of St Paul’s Bay has been denied!
Please do not think that your sweet granddaughter, Miriana, has forgotten you. This can never be. You were everything for her and the values, the love and the care you gave her are still alive. Although this little girl has been denied your presence nobody can ever erase the lovely memories of the times you played with her, taught her, and not forgetting those lovely long walks together and the visits to the Blessed Sacrament while my husband and I were at work.
It is impossible to go through that street, and it has happened again this very week, without the child lamenting, “Nanna gone! Nanna’s place gone!” with a sad look of wonder in her eyes trying to find an answer. I really don’t know what to tell her. How can I ever explain to her how the fact that she used to regularly spend so much time with you has all of a sudden disappeared, including that place where she had spent such a lovely childhood with you? How can we ever know what goes through that innocent mind? What does she imagine? Who knows whether one day I will be able to explain to her what happened on that day when she was just a two-and-a- half years old?
Mummy, the emptiness you left when you were so unexpectedly and cruelly taken away from us is still very much there. The wounds are still there and it will take a long time for them to heal. On a day when you were leading your normal everyday life in your own home, carrying out your teaching activities, a profession you loved so dearly, you and your student Nadia, suddenly met your death. This reminds me of what you always used to tell me – “Be prepared because you never know when the Lord will call you!”
This unjust and untimely death has made us think many thoughts, ask many questions and raise many doubts. Our only consolation is knowing that in death you reap what you sow throughout your life. We are certain that the sufferings you have been through in this life are over and that you are now enjoying your eternal reward.
Thank you mummy for all you did for me, and my family.
Marie Diane Mulè Stagno