Ilya Valkovsky

I am so sorry to hear of your loss, Mimi. Your husband was one of the kindest, most easy to talk to person I have ever known. I could see the love he had for you when we were together. Please know he is in my prays as well as you and your daughters.

May peace come quickly to you and your daughter,
Paul E Morris Jr.

Dear Mimi, dear girls Simone and Gabi, dear Emik and Zina, dear Olechka!

Please accept our condolences and our love on the passing of someone dear to you and to us. We weep together with you. Of course, we all hoped for a miracle, but as believers who trust that everything is sent by God, we relied on God´s will. Now we cry and mourn. We want Ilya to always be nearby, painting his pictures, joking, tirelessly commenting on Facebook about the things that concerned him. But God has taken him, and we must humbly accept this. The only comfort is that now he has no pain or suffering.

It is a great mercy from God that in recent years we were writing to one another and supporting each other. Our whole lives passed at a distance. Ilya emigrated in 1989, when I was expecting my eldest daughter. Then our contact was broken, and it resumed when Ilyusha wrote about Emik´s stroke and asked me to inform the relatives in Moscow. We prayed together for his recovery. Then came the terrible news of Ilyusha´s illness. We prayed again for a miracle, although we understood how serious that diagnosis was, and yet we still did not accept it as a final sentence. In such extreme moments of life, which I feel as an amputation of part of yourself, you understand especially clearly how unnatural it is. A human being was conceived, designed, as immortal, and how much one wants Ilyusha to always be near.

Memories of our shared childhood wash over me, because we lived together until about age six, both in the city on Solyanka and at the dacha in Cherepkovo. Thanks to Emik there are films and many wonderful photographs. I remember our beloved little monkey Pishchik, Baba Buma who adored and idolized baby Ilyusha, her firm handshake with the wish, "Come visit us more often!" I remember Ilyushenka on a bicycle that at the end of summer was converted into a two wheeler, the beautiful little sister Olechka, and the birthdays we always celebrated together until we grew up, and so much that was beautiful. I remember how on Solyanka we developed photographs in the dark, and how magically our faces emerge from the darkness of the negative. One wants to believe that in the same way, from the darkness of nonexistence, a dear face will one day appear, and we will embrace one another.

May God help you all, dear ones, to endure this loss. Take care of yourselves. Let us remember that we have one another. We pray for one another, and together we pray for the repose of the dear person we have lost. I embrace you all.

With love,
Anya Valkovskaya and the family