Tribute delivered by Martin Levison’s daughter Stephanie Brada at his funeral 3.7.20

Last night so many people gathered in your honour Martin and we talked about you, but now you are with us for the last time and it’s my chance to speak directly to you.

We saw last night how people loved you and I hope your spirit was with us. Overwhelmingly, people wanted to tell us that you were a lovely man – these words have been said by people who knew you for decades through to the people who cared for you at Spring Grove.

Now is a time to look both back and forward, at what you achieved but also the footprints you have left and the way you have influenced the rest of us in how we lead our lives now and in the future.

How to put you in a nutshell? There is so much to say about you but I want to just mention a few of our strongest impressions of you.

You were a reflection of the extended very traditional Jewish family you grew up in, bi-lingual in English and Yiddish. Your stories of childhood were from a very different and intriguing world. I always remember the vividness of your recall of the Lindbergh kidnapping when your brother Malcolm was a baby, and how you would lie awake at night, terrified that someone might kidnap him.

You really found yourself when you met Gwen and she led you astray into Habonim and then Aliyah to Bet Ha’emek.  You loved the farming life on David Eder farm and in Israel and that deep emotional bond to Israel was with you all your life.

But nothing was like your bond with Gwen. She really was your rock and guide and friend for life and from meeting her at 19 she helped you become the person we all knew. And you gave so much to her, always supportive- I remember that when we were children and she went to training college, it was only possible because you were so supportive. And subsequently you were so proud of her teaching career.

You approached life with unfailing enthusiasm and truly made the most of every situation. Your job took you all over London and instead of finding that tedious you took joy in looking in detail at the buildings as you walked the streets, trying to learn more about architecture. You used every spare moment to pop into museums and art galleries for a spiritual refresh – and you knew every cake shop in central London, with an unerring eye for which would be the best cake, which, you taught me, was rarely the showiest looking one.

You had a thirst for knowledge that never ended- you loved that poetry group at JW3 right until a few months ago. I remember how you came with me when I rebelled at school and decided to do a teach yourself version of O” level English; you drove me to that WEA literature class and decided to join in. Those classes became a lifelong passion for you and as with everything you did you took and you gave – you gained so much from the art and literature classes but also gave so much back to the WEA, supporting flagging classes so they could continue for the loyal members, organising endless outings and parties, and showing kindness to the more lonely people you sometimes met there.

We talked about your volunteering last night. This went on right to your nineties and you and mum were legendary at Jewish Care for being the elderly volunteers who crossed London every week to continue helping at the Vi and John after moving to St John’s Wood. We saw from the people who joined us last night how much this was appreciated.

Your cultural appetite was insatiable- you were reliably moved to tears by opera and ballet and I must tell you once more that the gift of ballet which you gave to me is one of the most important things in my life and I am so grateful. We went together to Covent Garden really not so long ago, maybe 18 months – do you remember we were pleased to find that Sarah Lamb, although not one of our all-time favourite dancers, really was very good in Mayerling. We were a terribly critical audience, along with our friends, the wonderful Barbara and Ursula! Your last trip to Covent Garden was with your grandson in law who took you to the opera, aged 91, on a student ticket and reported back that you were in tears of joy at the music.

Your move to St John’s Wood really gave you a new lease of life and you never took for granted that you were able to live in such a beautiful place, close to Regents Park which you came to love so much.

That you could walk to the shul was wonderful and you had so much joy from going there, always so happy when you were called up. And, again, you didn’t just go to shul, you made sure you volunteered and helped them in any way you could.

But the thing about you which was truly unerring was your sense of responsibility-   you were clear, you don’t just do the things you want to in life- you do the right thing even if it isn’t the most fun thing on offer. You never rejected anyone because they were difficult, you reached out and included them, and made them feel better. I will always remember how you took care of not only your own parents but also Gwen’s parents and how you visited Michael’s mother, Lisa, every week when she moved to England, even  through her last months of dementia – and you did that when many people would have thought there was no point, because she was Michael’s mother and must be shown respect.

I have missed so many things that I might have said to you Martin but I do want to say that I realised when they were speaking last night just how important you were to my own children and how all those visits with you to the Vi and John as small children have helped make them the people they are now, always doing things to help others. So your generous spirt will live on.

Gwen will miss you terribly and we all know that she did everything she could, and more, to make the last months comfortable. But we know that your greatest wish, which you often said, was that she would continue to enjoy life even without you.

We all love you Martin and are happy for you that you are now at peace.