Not a day has passed that someone does not stop me in the street to speak to me about my father, to share some story, some anecdote, or to tell me what my father may have done to help them, Parliamentary Secretary Mario de Marco recalled.

Speaking to The Malta Independent on the first anniversary of his father’s death, Dr de Marco said it was hard to believe that a year has already gone by since his father passed away.

“Events around which the last week of his life evolved are still too fresh… last Wednesday a reception was held at the Ħamrun Liberty Club, as is traditionally held in the week of the Feast of San Gaetano. It was the last public event he attended,” he recalled.

He said he sincerely believes his father had wanted to attend at all cost, knowing probably better than us that it would be his last, and despite having undergone a four-hour dialysis in the morning, and that next morning he was due for an angioplasty at 7am, he did.

“Some that were present that day, in hearing his address, felt that he was bidding them farewell… and indeed he was,” he said.

The next day he went to hospital as planned, early in the morning, but complications led to his lungs filling with fluid, and his heart nearly collapsing, he said.

“We were told there was no hope. However he somehow managed to recover, his heart defeating expectations that it would succumb to the attempts at extracting the fluid,” he explained.

By the following Saturday he was awakened from the induced coma, and by Tuesday was dismissed from hospital. He was undoubtfully weak, having undergone five dialyses in seven days, but his spirits were high, he said.

“I can never forget my last long conversation with him on Wednesday evening, in the balcony overlooking the sea at my parent’s apartment. As always he did not want to engage in petty conversation, but wanted to know what one was doing,” he said.

My father was elated to have his grandchildren with him; proud that my Andrea is Andrea Guido, and revelling in the rebellious spirit of my younger Luca, who he fondly called Luca Luca, Dr de Marco said.

He went on to recall his father’s habit of changing the names of the people he befriended, Eddie (Fenech Adami) was Dwardu, Joe Said Pullicino was Dun Peppino, Francis Zammit Dimech was Ċikku Lebbet and Tony Bezzina was Bezzinaio. 

“It was part of his sense of humour that people close to him had to put up with, even though they may not have always been too amused with their alternate names,” he said.

Exactly a week after, he was admitted to hospital. I had called him at around 2.30pm to see how he was feeling after his dialysis, and he said ‘not bad’, he recalled.

“His voice sounded weak, and barely 30 minutes later, my mother called me, frantically, he had passed away in his sleep. His heart simply stopped beating. Since then, to a certain extent, it is as if time stood still,” he said.

Commenting that everyday someone shares some anecdote about his father with him, he said that the stories know no frontiers, no political colours.

“I was once at the cemetery sharing some thoughts with him, in front of his grave. A man walking past at a higher level called out at me “Guido hemm qieqħed?” I replied in the affirmative. The man and his partner walked off. After a while they suddenly appeared next to me. The man asked if I minded if he prays for him next to me. I certainly did not. He then turned to me and said that even though he did not share my father’s political views, he held him in high esteem. All of a sudden this man who said he was from Marsa, in his 60s, heavily-laden with gold chains around his neck, started sobbing like a child.”

“My father’s memories have given us the most beautiful legacy one would ever want from a father – so many memories to fill every void since he left us. So many, that me and my family feel that he has never left us. We also have a responsibility, to honour and respect his memory,” he said.

“I would like to thank the so many people who shared these testing moments with us. Describing them as an extended family may sound cliché, but it is the truth. We are never alone and I hope that what he has taught us, not so much in words, but more so in his actions, will live in me and my family for the rest of our lives,” he concluded.