My long-departed nanna used to make sure I remembered deceased relatives every time November came round. As a young boy, death was something too distant to be really present in my life, but I still bowed my head in respect for people I had never met and could only see in the black and white photographs on the wall, which my nanna made sure were dusted each and every day.

And, as November has started again, I think of her and all my other grandparents who have left this world. Today, with all the years that have passed, death is looming closer and it does feature in my thoughts more frequently.

Yet, on this Sunday morning, I do not want to put you off reading my article so I quickly say that I will not be writing about death.

I will be writing about life.

Being on the right side of 40 might be considered still too young to reminisce about the past, but the question that keeps popping up in my head frequently these days is whether I would say “yes” were I to be given the opportunity to live a second life.

And, if I were to say “yes”, would I want to live the same life I have lived, or would I want something different? Would it be worse than what it is today, or would it be better? Would I make the same choices I made in this life?

Life is made up of thousands of decisions we make each day without noticing. Shall I drink coffee or tea? Do I cross the road from here or further down the road? Will I read or watch TV? Should I wear the blue or the green shirt?

These are, of course, the little things that we do automatically, with hardly any thinking at all. Then there are more important questions; those that are not answered in a split second, those that take days, weeks, months of thought and the drawing up of mental lists of pros and cons.

What subjects will I choose in Form Three? Do I go to university or not? What university course will I take? Should I leave this course midway and start working?

Can that person be trusted? Can I risk opening up? Will it backfire? Am I interpreting things badly? Am I being used? Will I get hurt?

Do I send in my application for that particular job? Do I accept that job? Do I want to change my job? Are a few thousand euros more worth the risk of taking a job that does not fit my character and likings?

Do I get married? Should I become a father? Am I responsible enough to be a father? Should I have a second child? Should I send my kids to that school or the other? Should I be a disciplined father or should I give them anything they ask for?

These are questions that I have asked myself in the course of my life, and if I get a second chance I do not think that I will answer them in the same way that I did when it was time to make that particular choice.

And this is because experience changes people, and decisions taken one moment may seem to be the best at the time but turn out to be wrong in the long term.

The thing is, some decisions can be changed, while others cannot.

A common phrase my nanna used to say was “ghall-maghmul m’hemmx kunsill” (what’s done is done). And she was right.

* * *

All journalists have a dream of having the chance to interview some personality. For many it could be a politician, an actor, a musician or a footballer. I was lucky enough to have had my fair share of interviews with personalities in different sectors of society, but unfortunately my biggest wish cannot be fulfilled.

This is because my dream, in my profession, has always been to interview Lazarus, the man who according to the Gospel was raised from the dead by Jesus Christ.

It would not be a long interview.

I would have just one question for him – is there a life after this one?

I just wonder why nobody bothered to ask Lazarus this question when he emerged from the tomb he had been buried in. Unless they did and his answer was that he had just slept for three days.

* * *

On a completely different

subject matter, activities such as those organised by the Hamrun local council yesterday week ought to be praised. The chocolate festival was a great success; if anything, the place chosen for the event should have been bigger because there were too many stands and people for such a small square. But perhaps the council did not expect such a big turnout.

If anything, such an event contrasts with the idea of healthy eating, although one does not need to go to a chocolate festival to eat chocolate.

And as I tried to make my way around the place, I could see that most of the people present were of the roundish and biggish type. Not a surprise really, considering that chocolate lovers tend to be overweight.

I couldn’t help it but I started to hum Queen’s

popular song “Fat bottomed girls”. I was lucky no one heard me.

* * *

Joseph Muscat listed 10 points for the Budget last Sunday. When I heard the phrase “10 points” all I could think of was the 10 points that students attending government schools were given when they applied to enter university in the early 1980s – a measure introduced to push students out of Church schools.

Joseph Muscat, who attended the Church-run St Aloysius College a few years after me, probably does not remember this. By the time he finished secondary schooling, a Nationalist government had removed the 10 points.

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