Saviour Rizzo writes:
The life of a person is made of moments and the golden ones can be cherished even though they change nothing. Ironically, it was the death of my sister, Carmen Naudi, that brought back to me memories of these cherished and golden moments.
Being the third eldest child of a large family of 11 children, Carmen used to act as a caring mother to her siblings. In playing this role, she used all her mentoring and empathic skills to help me in my studies, as, of course, she did to all my younger brothers and sisters.
As a child drifting in a maze of dreams and images hardly knowing my stuff, this mentoring proved to be a vital part of that anchorage that helped me to muddle through.
As we, her brothers and sisters, all went our separate way she continued to be the main source of support by being the focal point of all family members and serving as a connecting rod to our diverse lives. Definitely, this glue that held us together will be sorely missed. The greatest thing in her life was her stamina, which was often translated into a sustained physical effort to be in the thick of things whenever anyone was in need of assistance. She would immerse herself in the issues in which her family members were involved to such an extent that she would own their problems.
This sense of energy and spirit, together with the skills she informally acquired as a mentor in her family home, must have been her greatest assets during her long teaching career. The enthusiastic way she used to narrate her school and classroom experiences indicate not only her dedication to teaching but also her heightened sensitivity to the needs of the pupils under her charge.
It was through this sensitivity that she derived great joy in giving rather than taking. Such benevolence was much in evidence in her cooking as she often prepared an extra supply of food not to indulge in excess eating butto be able to share her food with other family members living outside her household.
This generosity was complemented by an amiability that made her fond of society in her own way. Being never deficient to guests she always gave a warm welcome to the friends and relatives who visited her home. Such was her urge to be bountiful to her guests that she might have worn them out with sheer persistence. Her bonhomie and joie de vivre were very evident during the social gatherings for friends and relatives, which she used to hold quite often at her home.
Through her excitement in conversation she often gave a twist to the topic being discussed. As her ebullience did not always enable her to mince her words she might have exhibited a certain degree of assertiveness during these conversations. This assertiveness, however, seemed to me to be driven more by a yearning to the ideal rather than a quest to express her ego.
The image of Carmen evoked by my reminiscences is, of course, based on my personal views. But I am sure that it is consistent with the views of the great number of relatives, friends and acquaintances who attended her funeral Mass at San Ġwann parish church, however different from mine their relationships with her might have been. This should be the greatest solace to her husband, her two sons, their spouses and grandsons to whom the death of Carmen must have brought cherished and golden moments much more numerous than mine.