Six years ago I had the honour of interviewing Censu and Maria Tabone about a subject not many had discussed with our ex-President.
With Valentine’s day looming, I wanted to know what made their (then) 63 year old marriage tick.
One of the things that Censu Tabone advised was to never go to sleep angry.
Yesterday morning, the same endearing man sat down in his armchair and slept peacefully for one last time.
It was one of the coldest nights in January, not only because the temperature was at an all-time low, but also because for most, it was the first day of work after the holiday season.
The mental cold shower I woke up to that morning had lingered on to the evening, and the idea of visiting our ex-President's home to talk about love, marriage and romance did not amuse me at all.
The only positive thing I could see at was that least I was lucky enough to find a parking spot right in front of the Tabone's century-old house in St Julian's.
Dr Tabone came to greet me at the door, and after shaking my frozen hand, he personally fetched an electric heater and plugged it as close to me as possible.
Soon enough I had thawed and, we were chatting away about everything under the sun. I was still coming to grips with the 93-year-old's clarity of mind, when a smiling Maria Tabone joined us.
Ever since I was a child I thought she was particularly lovable, you know, in the huggable, squeezable sense, and meeting her in person confirmed this ten times over.
She sits next to Censu on the sofa, leaving some space for their fluffy cat in between. By the end of our meeting however, both had sub-consciously moved closer and closer to each other until their charming cat had no choice but to climb on to Censu's chest for some attention.
Censu and Maria Tabone married on November 23, 1943.
Amid war, turmoil, social and political upheaval, they had three sons and five daughters who, in their words, have blessed them with 19 grandchildren and nine great-grandchildren.
"We met in Gozo," Censu recalls with that familiar proud grin.
"Our families used to spend summers in Marsalfom."
"It was beautiful."
"It was very different from today because we practically lived outdoors as the houses were very small and hardly any of them were fully furnished."
"Most of us used to transport furniture from Malta for the summer months, so we used to make do with the bare minimum."
"Still it was the most beautiful time of our lives."
Maria's father was a Magistrate and a family friend of Censu's family.
"Censu is 7 years older than I am ... " Maria points out mischievously" ... and we met when I was still a teenager.
"I admit... " she adds timidly, " ... I was the one who noticed him first, but I knew I was too young for anything to happen."
It wasn't until a few years later, when Maria turned 18 and Censu was a 4th year medical student that they started seeing each other as more than good family friends.
"She had it all planned out. … " says Censu jokingly and, as he affectionately pats her on the back, adds, " ... from years before she had decided we should be together, and as you know, a woman will always have her way!"
Soon after the two became an item, the war broke and though Censu was a military doctor for six and a half years, they still got married during the war.
Censu recalls clearly and nostalgically every little detail of those days, and true to his nature ponders and philosophises about destiny and faith.
"It was destiny that Maria and I had to live this long life together,” he says.
“I came so close to being killed during the first attack on St Elmo that it was faith that kept me alive. The first bombs that were dropped on St. Elmo were nicknamed the Six 1,OOOlb bombs. They were dropped consecutively and in a straight line on top of St Elmo, right where we were stationed. The first five bombs fell on top of the rooms next to me and caved in the ceilings. The last bomb, which should have fallen on my room, fell just a few inches off its mark and landed in between my room and the next. Had that not happened Maria would have been a very young, childless widow.”
"It was a very tough time," continues Maria. "We couldn't communicate with each other because after this first attack I was taken to Rabat with my family."
"In order to protect us, my father had us stay with family friends for a week, and then he took us back to Gozo once it was relatively not threatened by attacks."
Maria and Censu managed to see each other just once a week until they got married. They were wed by the bishop of Gozo - Mgr Gonzi - who carried out the ceremony in the palace chapel as he invariably refused to leave the building.
Their wedding reception was held in the streets of Marsalforn and they spent their first night, which they endearingly call their honeymoon, at the Royal Lady Hotel which is today known as The Grand Hotel.
At the time, Censu was stationed at the Pembroke barracks so they had decided to buy a house nearby.
"Had there been any houses available in Pembroke we would have chosen one of those, but there weren't, so we bought this one," recalls Censu.
"At the time we thought we'd never manage to fill it up and make it feel like a home, but with eight children and ourselves it actually became too small for us!"
Given a chance Censu would go on forever about his experience in the war, history, politics his theories and philosophies about life. So Maria, who is obviously used to this, enters into a virtual dance with her husband - she finishes his sentences, reminds him of dates and gently redirects his thoughts to the topic of conversation. She also manages to keep half an eye on the clock and patiently reminds him that they are to attend another event that evening.
"Religion is the secret of our relationship," they say in tandem. "The belief in sacrifice and sin," Censu continues.
"If I had to come across a more efficient and powerful code of behaviour than the commandments, then I would have no problem adhering to it, but to date, after all these decades of marriage, I honestly believe that the ten commandments are all one needs for a meaningful, loving relationship."
With Valentine's day looming, I asked whether they ever celebrated it together. "We never celebrated Valentine's day,” they answer, “but we do celebrate birthdays and the saint day of all the members in our family."
At this point Maria recalls Censu's first birthday. “We were not married yet,” she recalls, "and I got the date mixed up. I thought it was on the 31st not the 30th and so when the day came along I did not mention anything and did not even wish him a happy birthday, he thought I had totally forgotten. Although he was obviously annoyed with me, he did not utter a word about it. Then in the evening, I gave him a present – a pair of cufflinks - for his birthday the next day. He smiled, and then laughed long and hard, until he stopped to tell me that his birthday was that very day."
After the war, Censu left for the UK to specialise in ophthalmology. He spent almost two years there and by this time they had already had three children.
Again it was a tough time. Food was in short supply; there were no telephones and no air travel except for very special military reasons.
"We could only communicate with letters and those took a week to arrive," recalls Censu.
"Luckily we had a common friend who at the time was testing telephones, and he offered Maria a free test to call me in the UK. We set up a date and time as I had to go to station to receive this call, but by the time the appointment day arrived the testing period was over and Maria had to pay for the service."
At this point Maria is laughing and she explains why: "The funny thing is that when we heard each other's voice on the other end of the line, we got so emotional that all we could say was 'hello' . It cost me Lm1, which was a lot of money for that time, and all I could say was 'hello' for the whole duration. It was worth it just to hear his voice!"
When asked for advice for today's newlyweds, Maria and Censu agreed that besides faith and religion, the secret to a happy relationship is to never go to bed angry at other.
"It's contradictory to do that. You're sleeping physically close to a person you are arguing with, so it almost makes fighting and arguing acceptable in the relationship, when it never is. So fix things before you go to sleep at night. Besides, you sleep better if you do, and sleep is good for the body and soul," they both conclude.
Click here for the original interview that first appeared on FM Magazine - http://www.alisonbezzina.com/censu-maria-tabone-the10-secrets-of-their-love/