This morning on my way to University a friend phoned saying that Fr Peter was nearing the end. I had dreaded this moment. I went straight to his bedside to pray for him. There were members of his family and a number of friends. I went again around eleven. It was the last time I saw him alive.
Life was oozing out of him. It had been doing that for quite some time. Now it seems that all its reserves were almost empty. Then the sad but expected news was given. He died. He left many orphans, though he was not married and never had children.
Like a diamond he had many facets. He was an extremely eminent intellectual, a reformer in the field of education, one who influenced development in our country, the mentor of so many people. His power of synthesis was supreme. He could see order where others saw only chaos. He could bridge spaces others considered to be unassailable chasms. Fr Peter's repertoire of knowledge was exceptionally vast.
One can go on and on.
But the most important facet of Fr Peter's life, as I will argue, in my piece to The Sunday Times next Sunday, was the fact that he was a priest and a very good one at that. Let me leave this aspect for next Sunday and let me just mention a few anecdotes. The shock, after all, is still too great to write at length.
A characteristic that many will remember is his forgetfulness. The funny and not so funny incidents that are narrated, some of which are totally apocryphal will continue to make the rounds. They will be enhanced. He used to laugh whenever anyone reminds him of a such an incident or when he saw himself in an incident narrated by others. Some weeks ago I recounted some forgetful incident I had. "That's almost worthy of me", he chuckled.
I then reminded him of a couple of incidents of his forgetfulness remarking that I had still some way to go to reach his "heights" in this respect.
This eminent man had as much time – if not more – for the lowly as he had for those in the highest of positions.
During the troubled 1980s we met in my sister's house with two other gentlemen whom I'll leave unnamed. They were difficult times. He had been invited to take part in a television programme at a time when Xandir Malta was guarded by armed soldiers. We met to discuss the strategy to be adopted. When he arrived my niece told him that it was her fourth birthday. He looked at me and in a stern voice told me: Your young niece has her birthday and you did not tell me before coming here so that I would bring her a present? Believe me I was lost for words.
Hundreds will remember Fr Peter's University lectures. They were immensely intense but not easy to follow. I used to love his lectures. Even looking at him and just hearing him speak without fully understanding him was instructive enough. If you happen to understand, then that would have been an extra bonus. I loved most, though, going to lectures after I successfully sat for the finals in philosophy. Then I could just enjoy his pearls of wisdom without bothering about exams. He knew that his lectures could be difficult. I remember his course in cosmology. It was so difficult for all of us. He recognised that fact almost blamed himself for the fiasco and told us to forget about it. The credit was then taught by an American professor visiting Malta.
This said, one notes that his other courses proved to be fruitful for most. I owe him a lot. Hundreds of others owe him a lot. Our duty is to move on while attempting to actuate his ideas and visions for society.
Today he is no longer with us. He left us for the house of our Father in heaven. I hope that St Peter was accompanied by a donkey and a clown giving him a warm welcome. I'm certain that Fr Peter's appreciative reaction to such a move would be in the form of a joke.