Valerie Borg writes:

They say that misery loves company but not you Jimmy. If a few good men were asked to stay in line to go to that celestial place, the first one would be you.

You were not like the proverbial ostrich, burying your head in the sand to avoid listening to people’s woes, but you always tried to help them in your own way. You were simply one of a kind and I doubt if there is another ‘Jimmy’ in the world.

You didn’t care for acerbic tongues  and stayed  away from people like that because you knew that nothing breaks like a heart if word got around what people were saying about them.

You never cared for wagging tongues about this that and the other. You were not a pariah either but you lived with your wife who had a daughter whom you loved more than life itself.

I remember seeing you a month ago in Valletta. You asked me if there was anything I needed and with a smile, I said “money”. Laughing you told me: “That’s something I need honey.”

That was the last time I saw you laugh, the very last time I saw your face, always available to someone in need. My condolences go to your wife and all the family who lived in Valletta… Valletta, which you loved.