Mark Wood writes...
Is there the female equivalent of a perfect gentleman? A ‘real lady’ perhaps? But even that only begins to scratch the surface of Ann Philip’s character.
Her father was Maltese, she was brought up in Wales, worked as a headmistress in the south of England and retired early to Malta, a place she loved and would never leave. There was something of the best of British in the way she conducted herself: always utterly polite and considerate, never did I hear her speak a bad word about anyone and always was she so prompt to praise.
But that behaviour went far deeper than mere good manners. She was a ‘good woman’ to the core, full of wisdom and compassion.
She also had rock solid principles. While she was so quick to overlook others’ shortcomings – and my experience was that she was extremely forgiving of them – there were certain moral values she held dear and whose breach she did not look kindly upon. You knew where you stood with Ann.
She had a clear, sharp mind, the kind that enabled her to do the Times of Malta crossword in 10 minutes flat. The next time I would see her she would delight in teasing me with this wickedly clever clue that had taken her slightly longer than usual to solve and on which I would inevitably pass.
Ann was a great storyteller and conversationalist and would talk entertainingly of her childhood and younger years, whether about her Maltese GP dad loved by all his patients in Wales (and whom she adored) or her house on the moor shared with a friendly ghost. Her stories were legendary among her friends and she would have them in stitches with her humour and wit.
She was a devout Catholic and deeply spiritual, keen to explore different approaches to God while religiously keeping her Sunday Mass appointment at the Mellieħa Sanctuary.
I learnt a lot from her over the years but one of the most valuable lessons was the way she so stoically endured her suffering towards the end of the 80-odd years of her life, which was lived in fulfillment of the musical, intellectual, social, spiritual and other gifts she was endowed with.
Her loving and devoted children bore her loss with great fortitude and after the funeral service celebrated her jollier days by going to a bar with friends and family. She would have had it no other way.