Minnie Shlipak Martell, 1929-2011

My beloved grandmother lost her battle with Alzheimer's earlier this week. I was not able to fly out for the funeral, so I wrote this to be read out instead of my being there.

Dear Mimi,

 

It is said that one of the most common and most effective ways of dealing with grief is to write a letter to the person you have lost. It is not a letter you send, or even one you keep. There's something therapeutic about just writing it. So here goes. I hope you're listening.

 

I never got a chance to thank you for the things you have done for me. It was you that inspired me musically; I remember once, when I was five, you caught me playing the piano with my feet. You told me no. You told me that's not the way you play piano. You made me apologise to the piano. And now I can play it properly. Maybe you don't remember, maybe you couldn't even hear me really, but I played to you last time I visited. I played the same pieces over and over again; because they are the only ones I know how to play; but I was playing them for you. I will still play for you... and I hope you're still listening.

 

I want to thank you for teaching me to appreciate the English language, and the effect it can have on one person. It was through you that I began to understand the beauty of words, and the poetry of speech.

 

I want to thank you for my mother; they say that one learns how to parent one's children from their own parents. Well, for that I thank you, because I could not have asked for a better mother, and it was you that brought her into the world. I want to thank you for my Aunt Susan too, and the family she created; some people don't even know their cousins, and most do not have the relationship that I have with my extended family. So thank you.

I find solace in the fact that you won't be hurting anymore; that you'll be able to be with Poppa again, and that you'll have your mind back. To those who have asked me if it was a shock to hear the news, I have simply said that, yes, I will miss you, but that you lived a full and beautiful life; you saw and did a great many things; you touched the hearts and minds of many people; it's your time. For some people, it isn't, and we are all lucky to have had you in our lives, and that you had a long one. But we are at the end of it, and we must say our goodbyes.

I love you, Mimi; I always will love you and think of you every time I play music or sing or write. I hope you're listening because I will always be playing for you.

Love Always,
Your Granddaughter,
Kayla.