Fr Martin Micallef writes:
On this, the sad occasion of his loss, I recall the very day, 10 years ago, of Kevin Vella’s marriage to Rita. Then, I had said that God was bidding them to consecrate themselves to one another and by so doing they would also be a clear example to us all of God’s eternal love. Kevin and Rita both took these words very seriously. They did become, in every sense, a true mirror of God’s love, not only for themselves, but for all of us.
And today to thank Kevin for his unconditional love: “for a love that consoles and is merciful, a love that is not jealous, not complacent, not haughty; a love that is not self-seeking, not easily angered, and keeps no record of wrongs” (1 Corinthians 13: 4-7).
Surely Kevin’s life was a most precious gift to us all, a life which he transformed into a hymn of love, which Our Lord Jesus Christ illustrated in these words: “By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another” (John, 13:35).
I greatly admired the deep love he cherished for Rita. We always saw them together: they were the eternal lovers. Kevin was always there for Rita as was Rita for Kevin. What a fine example! Thank you Kevin and Rita on behalf of us all.
Kevin was also an inspiration to many others thanks to the contribution he and Rita made in their struggle to ensure a more inclusive and a fairer society for everyone. As a person with disability, Kevin believed that it is society that creates real disability and he wasn’t afraid to raise his voice and remind society and the Church of their duty to eliminate all those barriers that prevent the full participation of people with disability in all aspects of daily life.
Kevin and Rita used to insist that the parish church of Mosta should become, as of right, wheelchair accessible for them and for anyone else who had a mobility impairment. Thanks in no small measure to their unceasing insistence, an appropriate access ramp was constructed, so much so that the last celebration of Kevin’s life is accessible to one and all.
Kevin and Rita’s voices have constantly called out for the elimination of barriers, which are the main obstacles to equal opportunities in both Maltese society and the Church.
They spoke out because, like every one of us, and in spite of their own impairments, Kevin and Rita were always determined to live life to the full, as is their right. If they wanted to go to a cinema, they went; if they wanted to travel, they did; if they wanted to go to the stadium to watch a football match, off they went; if they wanted to go the Isle of MTV, they’d go. Even when they could no longer board an aircraft, they still found a way to travel, thanks to Fr Joe Magro, who would often drive them wherever they wanted to go.
Once I was fortunate enough to share a beautiful moment with the couple in Brussels. This was when Rita was chosen to be in a calendar commemorating inspirational European women. Every time they found a closed door they would insist on their rights, prudently, but assertively. And, more often than not, they achieved their ends.
What was impressive about Kevin was also the fact that he appreciated the advancement of equal opportunities even when he himself wasn’t going to benefit from the change. He was overjoyed when learnt that, finally, beach wheelchairs were going to be available at Għadira Bay. This in spite of the fact that his deteriorating health prevented him from swimming. But that was Kevin: welcoming any initiative that improved the rights of people with disability. That is why it was such a fitting gesture when Maltese society saw fit to invest Kevin and Rita with the Medal for Service to the Republic.
We really do need more people with disability who are not afraid to speak out against any form of discrimination in daily life, whether it is intentional or not. I feel that Kevin is challenging Maltese people with disability: “Don’t let others speak up on your behalf. Speak for yourself! Safeguard your own disability rights and you will make a difference.”
Finally, Kevin even looked upon death in a positive manner. He insisted that he didn’t want his farewell to be a funeral, but an agapé, a celebration of love. He was an optimist, he wanted to see death as a continuation of a journey in which he could go on enjoying the good things he had struggled so hard to achieve.
His festival of remembrance did not mean that we do not feel deep anguish at the physical loss of a dear friend, but it does mean that we celebrated the beauty he typified in his lifetime: his sense of altruism, his sense of justice, as well as his embodiment of the meaning of true love.
As it does with other people with disability, society all too often focuses the image of a ‘wheelchair-bound Kevin’, but we know that Kevin was far more than that: he was a living example of someone with an ability, not a disability.
So, while we celebrated a feast of thanksgiving to God for the love Kevin shared with us, for all that Kevin meant to us, we implore the Blessed Virgin of the Assumption, to whom Kevin was so devoted, and beseech her to lead him into the embrace of her son Jesus Christ and into His celebration of love, his everlasting agapé in heaven.
Almighty Father, grant him eternal rest.