Death in the Family
My attempt with this blog has been to stick to a main topic. That is, my observations and (sometimes quirky) experiences as a relative newcomer to Malta as I immerse myself in Maltese life. I usually leave out personal details or aspects of my life that go beyond this self-imposed subject matter. And so I have been struggling as to whether I should write this post. In the end, I decided to go ahead.
The phone rang recently. I expected the call. My brother was on the other end, to inform me that our father had just passed away. It followed a prolonged illness and the end was clearly coming for the last several weeks. And thus I experienced a death in the family while living in Malta, far away from where the event took place.
I had already made peace with the fact that I would not attend the funeral. A quick glimpse into airline websites reiterated my decision with exorbitantly unaffordable last-minute fares.
It is difficult to mourn when there is nobody around that knew the deceased. It is even harder when there are few people around that know me. It is a time when unexpected people surprise you with kind gestures, while faraway loved ones send their words of comfort.
The strange thing is that, being in a place where people would not find out otherwise, one has to first inform others of the death. I feel odd doing that, as it seems like I am going around requesting sympathy. “How is everything going?” asked the friendly woman at the shop down the street. What should I do, tell her my father is dead and go through an awkward few minutes of perfunctory cliché phrases? Instead, I reply that all is well, with a smile, and move on.
