Charles Xuereb

My dad became everyone’s “Nannu” once his grandson Antonio was born. Everyone that met him instantly liked him. He always greeted everyone with a smile and told them it was nice to see them. My dad had something about him that drew children and animals to him, it was just magnetic. His grandson inherited that wonderful quality from him. My dad was playful and was always ready to play with my sister and I when we were growing up, and his grandchildren. Even when he was exhausted, he still made sure to see his grandchildren each day. They were the light of his life. When Antonio arrived, my sister and I didn’t shine as bright for him anymore. He was always amazed at the strength Antonio had from very young. When Rebecca arrived, He fell in love all over again. He would say in Maltese that she was so beautiful that an artist couldn’t draw her. He really adored his grandchildren and was so happy to be a “Nannu”, everyone’s “Nannu”.

His sense of humor is something that stood out from him. Even when he was in ICU, his humor continued and would try to make light of his unfortunate situation. He put a smile on the hospital staff’s face and tried to joke and make them laugh. I have millions of memories of laughing and joking with my dad, I’m so lucky.

If you know my dad, you would know that he loved fixing and building things. Often times I would come home to either something newly painted or he built the sturdiest rafter in the garage that could probably hold a car. He loved projects and helping my sister and I. It was fun for him and he’d make them with love. Birdhouses were something we all have in our backyards because nannu wanted to make sure all the birds had a place to lay their eggs. In my eyes, my dad could build and fix anything.

Before smart phones and GPS, my dad was my map when I was in San Francisco. Because he worked in the City for the majority of my life, he knew all the streets, alleys and short cuts. I would pull over to a pay phone to call him to tell him that I was lost again. His immediate response would be, “Ok no problem. Just tell me what street you’re on.” He would always know where I was and knew exactly how to get to wherever I was trying to get to.

My dad was never a huggy and kissy kind of guy. He never was the type to verbalize his love for you, but boy can you feel his love from 10 miles away. He didn’t need to tell us he loved us because he showed it daily and consistently. He loved his family so much. His love for my mom was always obvious. Being married for almost 52 years, they were really a part of each other’s lives. He loved and cared for his sisters and brother. He would always share stories of when they all grew up together in Malta, and then immigrated to America. He loved his nephews and nieces and was always so happy to see them. Uncle Charlie will be missed.

I inherited his patience, his interest in architecture, museums, attending the symphony and opera, the love of cathedrals and classic cars (hours of watching the Mecum car auctions on tv). A must when traveling with my dad is making sure we visit churches and cathedrals. Not because we were attending mass constantly, but because he wanted to see the architecture and paintings. Without a doubt, I have inherited the deep love for Malta. My dad loved his village, Mellieha, and would be at peace when we would visit. He was a proud Maltese man and loved his heritage and culture. When we went to Malta, he always made sure our first stop was at the cemetery to visit his mother, whom he loved.

My dad was always someone you can count on, no matter what, no matter where you are. He was so dependable and always willing to help everyone. He passed no judgement on others differences and didn’t speak bad of anyone. I knew that no matter what I did in my life, my dad would be there in a heartbeat. He was the one I always called on, including the hard task of burying all my pets in the backyard.

He always had a sense of style and never liked sweat pants. It was a miracle to convince him that they were more comfortable than wearing jeans, especially coming home from the hospital. My little stubborn Maltese dad insisted on wearing his jeans and shoes after he came from the hospital, regardless that they were no longer his size. But I let him wear whatever he wanted, as long as he was happy.

My dad was what we refer to in Maltese as "Zaqiq" – which translates that he loved to try a piece of what you may be eating. He had a sweet tooth until the very end. He was indeed a foodie and was a cheese connoisseur.

As young as I can remember, whenever we were boarding the plane in Malta to come back home to America, he told my sister and I to take a last few steps of Malta before we fly away. Dad took his last few steps before entering heaven on July 7th. We will forever remember you dad as you will never leave our hearts. May you rest in peace with the original Xuereb family. I love you with all of me.