In one of the dialogues in J. R. R. Tolkien’s magnum opus The Lord of the Rings, Gandalf addresses Frodo and tells him these precise words: “All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given us.”
I am sure that the late Mro Stephen Attard lived with this adage in mind; he was always finding new ways to help others and to make the world a better place.
Born in 1966 to a Gozitan family of musicians from Victoria, Stephen was the youngest of two boys. His elder brother Colin is in need of no introduction; he is the conductor of the Leone Band of Victoria and was for many years the maestro di cappella of the Gozo Cathedral.
Stephen’s father, the late Ġużeppi Attard, was also a bandsman with the La Stella Band of Victoria. His paternal grandfather, Mro Ġianni Vella, was conductor for the La Stella Band between 1951 and 1956 and from 1968 to 1970, and his late uncle, Prof. Joseph Vella, was conductor for the same musical society from 1970 till his death in 2018.
Stephen was both talented and gifted; he started his musical studies at the age of five, obtaining his ATCL, LRSM and FTCL diplomas in pianoforte performing in 1981, 1982 and 1984 respectively. Some 30 years ago, he composed Ġwanninu, the first rock opera from Gozo, to story and lyrics by Fr Effie Masini and Emanuel Cordina. Ġwanninu was successfully staged for a record number of 44 times from 1985 to 1988.
Stephen was kind-hearted, a man full of compassion for those in need. Every time the phone rang at 9.30pm, I instantly recognised it would be him; not an agreeable time prima facie but ideal for him, considering that he worked for the most part at night.
He was an artist in the true sense of the word; he deliberated for a long time before writing a piece of music. Very often he would e-mail me, asking me to find for him a particular Gospel quotation that he would then print and distribute to family and friends.
He was keen on the spirituality of French saint Charles de Foucauld and he was instrumental in bringing together a small group of lay people who would meet regularly to read and discuss his writings.
His last e-mail to me was an invitation for a pizza at Marsalforn, addressed also to my mother, after having learned that she was going through a difficult time.
Stephen was the very incarnation of empathy and this is how I choose to remember him. He had his fair share of suffering and he knew what it means to bear the Cross with patience and forbearance.
To his dear mother Lelina, who hardly ever left his bedside during his illness, and to his brother Colin and his family, I express my sincere condolences.
Dear Stephen, until we meet again, au revoir!